


Go Down With This Ship

by PorcupineGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Chatting & Messaging, Cybersex, Dean/Cas Tropefest 2016, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, E-mail, Epistolary, Identity Reveal, Librarian Dean, Light Bondage, M/M, NSFW Art, Online Friendship, Online Romance, Rimming, Tumblr, Two Person Love Triangle, also jokes about rimming, just like miles and miles of it, unrelenting fluff, with a little pining thrown in but mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcupineGirl/pseuds/PorcupineGirl
Summary: Since he has to stay deep in the closet to protect his job as a children’s librarian in conservative Wichita, Kansas, Dean’s main outlet for sexual frustration is writing and reading slash fiction for his favorite show, Devil Boys. When he starts corresponding with AngelofThursday, another male slash writer in his ship, he really is just looking for friendship… but when it seems like more might be on the table, he’s not going to turn it down. If only he didn’t also have a crush on Cas, the hot volunteer at his library branch…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! I started this fic nearly a year ago, then when I saw the Dean/Cas Tropefest I thought hey, that would work great for my fic writer AU! And thus deadlines made me actually finish it.
> 
> Thanks to museaway and jojodacrow for running the Tropefest, and to my terrific artist, [Horrorfemme](http://horrorfemme1138.tumblr.com/)! It took some creativity to do art for this fic, because much of it isn't exactly stuff that's easy to show visually, but her paintings are awesome.
> 
> Her work will be embedded in the fic, but you can see all of it [here (warning: NSFW!)](http://horrorfemme1138.tumblr.com/post/150327077841/my-art-for-porcupine-girl-s-fic-titled-go-down). The art at the end of chapter 2 is NSFW.
> 
>  _Trope note:_ I went into this calling this the "they meet anonymously and also IRL and don't know they're the same person" trope, and couldn't figure out if there was a better/shorter/more standard name for it. Turns out on TV Tropes it is called the [Two Person Love Triangle](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TwoPersonLoveTriangle). I love this trope, and hope more people start using a standard name for it so the fics that utilize it are easier to find!
> 
> Special thanks to Winter for cheerleading and comments, as well as for writing the excellent Two Person Love Triangle fic [Astrolabe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3348812), which definitely is what got the trope into my head so that I wound up using it here and not just having them meet online more traditionally.
> 
>  _Devil Boys_ is a Supernatural expy I created a couple years ago for a Nano novel I never finished about teenage girls road tripping to SDCC. Neal and Allen are two of the main characters, who have a large online shipping fandom. Internet cookies to anyone who can figure out how they got those names (answer in the end notes). :D Hint: Neal is the Dean expy and Allen is the Castiel expy. Sam has an expy, too, named Jack...

 

NealGirl4Lyf on Chapter 5

As much as I enjoyed this fic, I feel obligated to point out that if Neal only uses two fingers for foreplay, Allen is going to be in a lot of pain. I wouldn't normally say anything, but I don't want anyone reading it and trying that IRL.

AngelofThursday on Chapter 5

As it happens, I am an actual, real live gay cis male. Please do not try to explain how anal sex does or does not work to me. I assure you, it is not absolutely essential to every man (or woman—let's go with every person with an anus) that three fingers are used in the anus before a penis is inserted during every single sexual encounter. I realize that you have probably gotten your entire education about anal sex from fanfiction, where 99% of the time this is what happens, but if that is the case you may not want to lecture others without sources to back you up. My sources, for citation purposes: Several dicks that have been in my ass, along with several asses my dick has been in.

 

The comment catches Dean's eye. He's well aware that the vast majority of fanfiction writers are women—even those writing sex between two men, which he still doesn't really get, but whatever. It hadn't occurred to him for one moment that AngelofThursday, one of his favorite fic writers out there, might be a dude. A queer dude. (Well, okay, if he's a cis dude and writing slash fic, the odds of him not being into guys at all is about zero, but still.) Lord knows plenty of people have assumed Dean's a chick. He only bothers to correct them about half the time anymore, because does it really matter? Besides, easier to keep his IRL ID far away from his fandom ID if people don't even know his gender.

He wonders if it would be weird to send the guy an ask on Tumblr saying something like "Hey, that's cool that you're a dude, me too." Hm. He'd probably have to find something to say beyond that.

The thing is, Dean knows AngelofThursday reads his fics, too—he's left kudos on almost every one of Dean's stories, and comments on many of them. He comments regularly on the new chapters of Dean's current WIP, just as Dean does for his. It wouldn't be totally crazy to try to turn the mutual admiration society into a friendship… would it?

Dean sees people talk about all the great friends they've made through fandom, but he hasn't really had that experience. He has a lot of acquaintances, mutual followers on Tumblr whom he occasionally has sort-of conversations with in the comments of their reblogs. But he's never made any friends closer than that. He knows it's mostly because he keeps actual details about himself so close to the vest. He doesn't let even his real first name be associated with his fandom activities; he never says anything about where he lives or what he does for a living. He occasionally gives the vaguest possible details, such as the fact that he has a brother who's a lawyer, if it's directly relevant to a discussion. He doesn't even go to _Devil Boys_ cons, for fear of some photo of him winding up on the internet and somebody somewhere recognizing him.

It's hard enough to be a gay man in Wichita, Kansas. It's hard enough to be a male children's librarian. He's kind of amazed he's managed to keep up the combination for three years now, honestly, and it's getting exhausting. He's pretty sure that having a gay-porn-writing hobby would probably spell the end of his career and cause him to be run out of his neighborhood. Hell, even coming out at work would likely get him fired now that Kansas's anti-discrimination law has been rescinded. His branch manager, Ellen, has known him his whole life and wouldn't care, but anyone higher up probably would. Before, he stayed in the closet to avoid brouhahas with the parents, but now it's become even more important.

It's probably stupid for him to even continue to indulge in the hobby, given what it could cost him. But jesus, it's not like he gets to date. He only gets laid at all when he's out of town. He needs to just get up the balls to move out of Wichita, but until then he's gotta have one damn outlet for his sexual (and, let's be honest, romantic) frustration.

But in a lot of ways it's become one more way of being in the closet. The one fact about himself that he doesn't hide online is that he's queer, regardless of what people think his gender is. The only people who know in real life are his brother and his best friend Charlie, neither of whom still lives in Wichita. Online, at least, under the name RambleOn instead of Dean Winchester, he doesn't have to lie about that.

But since he's hiding literally every other detail of himself, it's only a half-relief at best. And lying about his main hobby while _also_ lying about his love life to everyone else adds up to enough lying that he's pretty sure he's going to slip up eventually.

Charlie, at least, gets both the gay stuff and the fandom stuff. They've become even closer in the few years since he finally admitted to himself that straight guys don't imagine male celebrities when they're having sex with their girlfriends (and bi guys probably only do it sometimes, rather than every time). She was the first person he came out to, and declared herself his "gay Yoda." She also writes fic and cosplays and goes to cons, so she totally gets that stuff, too. Unfortunately, she is not into _Devil Boys_ , which is the only fandom he's active in in terms of fanworks, so he can only talk about it so much with her. He gives her feedback on her Harry Potter fic (he's gotta hand it to her, it takes commitment to still be writing Drarry in 2015), but it doesn't really go the other way.

It would be really great to have just one person he could talk to about fic _and_ about his life. It would take a while for him to trust anyone he meets online with any details that could clearly be used to identify him, but he'd like to at least have the kind of conversations with someone that could lead to that level of trust.

So, after going back and forth about it for a day or two, he finally goes to AngelofThursday's Tumblr and clicks the button to write a fan mail. He's still too nervous to write an ask that could easily be made public—a fan mail could too, of course, but he's guessing the guy won't be committed enough to outing him to take a screencap. So he'll deal with the obnoxiously-large fonts.

It takes him an hour to write something he's happy with, or at least not completely embarrassed to send:

_Hey - If this is weird, feel free to ignore it. But I'm a big fan of your fics, and I just noticed in a comment that you said you're a gay guy. There aren't many of us around here (here being ficland, or at least Neallen land), so I just wanted to say… hi? other… dude? Damn, this is coming out even worse than in my head and it was pretty weak there to start with. Anyhow, to be totally honest I don't really know how the fuck people normally make friends around here, but I always enjoy your comments on my fics so I figured since we've got something else in common it wouldn't hurt to say hi and ask if you wanted to… uh… whatever the virtual equivalent of hanging out is? God, I swear I am not this socially inept IRL._

Awkward, but hopefully humorously self-deprecating enough to make up for it. Hell, worst that happens is the guy unfollows him and stops reading his fic, right?

\---

Castiel is having a damn good Monday. This morning was his first day volunteering at the local library, and the guy who gave him the tour and explained what he'll be doing was possibly the most gorgeous man he's ever laid eyes on. Of course, there's about a 99% likelihood, minimum, of Dean being straight, but it's nice to know he'll have a little eye candy while he's there. Not just eyes, either—Dean's voice is a little less rough than his own, but nearly as deep, and Cas can only imagine what it would feel like vibrating against him.

_Christ_ , he thinks to himself, _if I'm this crazy over a straight guy I really need to get laid_.

But to be fair, it's a _really hot_ straight guy.

He's got work to do, a deadline approaching for an article on colony collapse, but when he sits down at his computer he opens up Tumblr first. Just for a quick look, he tells himself.

Then he's honest with himself and sets his browser to block it after twenty minutes.

There is a one above the mail icon on his dashboard, and it makes him nervous. He's never received anon hate before, but he was kind of harsh in a comment on his most recent _Devil Boys_ WIP chapter and wouldn't be too shocked if the person he snapped at, or one of their friends, showed up to berate him.

When he opens it and sees the fanmail, the first thing that hits him is that it's from RambleOn. Cas loves RambleOn's fics; the worldbuilding in their AUs is fantastic and they manage to slip in some of the funniest bits he's read in fanfiction, even (sometimes especially) into their more somber plots.

Cas only wishes he could come up with that sort of thing—when it comes to fiction, fan or original, his skills fall squarely into formulaic-but-satisfying romance plots and really hot sex. Which is translating into a decent string of published erotica and romance, but makes him feel limited sometimes. With his current WIP, his first attempt at a casefic, he's hoping to stretch his plot-developing muscles a little. It'd be cool to publish a piece of fiction he doesn't have to hide behind a pen name someday, after all.

He definitely hopes RambleOn, of all people, hasn't come to berate him for his comment. It'd suck to lose all respect for one of his favorite authors.

By the time he gets to the end of the fanmail, though, he's smiling. It is, actually, about the comment, but not in the way he was expecting. He reads it again and laughs. It's absolutely fucking _adorable_. He suddenly wonders if RambleOn is hot, because if he's even halfway decent-looking, Castiel would hit that in a second. Of course, there's the fact that RambleOn probably lives several states away, minimum. And may well be a decade younger or older than thirty-year-old Cas. And doesn't even claim to be single or interested in anything like that. Just looking for a fandom friend.

Cas has to admit, he doesn't really understand how people seem to make such good friends through fandom, either. He was on LiveJournal back in the day, but he wasn't into fic then. It must have been a lot easier through LJ than Tumblr. He has LJ friends he still talks to on Facebook. He knows no one on Tumblr that he'd trust enough to give his real name to, let alone add on Facebook.

He's always hidden behind a pseudonym to write his erotica, and he's always been a little nervous about people beyond his closest friends finding out about it. But while that stuff is downloadable on Amazon, C.J. Milton doesn't have nearly the internet footprint that AngelofThursday has developed, so he's even more paranoid about keeping his fandom name away from his real name or related social media. It wouldn't be the end of the world, but it's hard enough being a gay man in Wichita, Kansas. He's almost saved up enough to move out of this hellhole, but he's probably still got a good six months to a year here.

So he considers his options. Going back and forth over Tumblr's limited (and frankly terrible) direct messaging options sounds like an awful idea. It would be nice to have some way of communicating in realtime, but he's not about to give his phone number to a virtual stranger for texting. Do people use IM anymore? Will he get laughed at for asking that question? It doesn't exactly look like RambleOn is any more clueful in this department than Cas, so he decides to just go with sending his AngelofThursday email and they can work out anything else later.

He cannot deal with the awful fanmail fonts, so he fires off an ask.

_I'm a big fan of your fics, too, so add that to the list of things we've got in common, I suppose. I have no idea how people make friends around here either, but I'm guessing it's not through Tumblr's shitty-ass askbox. My email is angelofthursday at gmail if you'd like to switch to a longer format. :)_

\---

_To: angelofthursday@gmail.com  
From: rambleon67@gmail.com_

_Hey!_

_Thanks for not thinking I'm a total creep, or at least pretending not to for long enough to give me your email. I didn't exactly think the process through this far, so I don't even know what to talk about. I guess it would make sense to tell you about myself?_

_Actually, I hope you don't mind if I keep a lot of details private for now. My job involves working with kids, and I live in a really conservative area, so I'm not out at work and there's a good chance I'd get fired if anyone outed me. If they found out I write slash, I'd_ definitely _be out of a job and possibly blackballed throughout the area. So I try not to let any identifying details be associated with my fandom name. Not that I think you'd do anything, but… I just don't know you very well yet, y'know? And I really can't afford to take chances. I hope you're not offended._

_But there's plenty of stuff I_ can _tell you. Let's see. I've been reading and writing fanfic for about a decade now. A friend of mine got me into Harry Potter fic back in college, and I moved from Harry Potter to MCU and Star Trek, then to Devil Boys, although I still read MCU. I was not originally into slash, though. Probably because I was so far in the closet I thought it was my bedroom. Even though my best friend (the one who got me into HP in the first place) is a lesbian, it took me until I was almost 25 to even figure out that I'm gay. I know, I know. Actually, Spock/Kirk kinda helped me work that out. But that's a whole other story._

_I never actually_ wrote _any slash til I got into Devil Boys like 2-3 years ago. That's when I got a Tumblr, too. I feel so old on there sometimes - man, I hope you're not like eighteen or something. No offense if you are, I would just find it really awkward to discuss our mutual porn-writing hobby with anyone that young._

_Okay, this is getting long enough and I've managed to say things that might offend you at least twice now (that I know of), so I should probably end it. Your turn to tell me your fandom history?_

_-RO_

 

_To: rambleon67@gmail.com  
From: angelofthursday@gmail.com_

_Hello RO,_

_First off: judging from the fact that you were in college about a decade ago, it sounds like we're roughly the same age, so don't worry about that. I'll admit, I had the same thought. I probably could not continue to correspond with you if you were younger than, say, 22. But it sounds like that is not an issue._

_Second, I completely understand if you don't want to give me private details. I, too, live in a conservative city, and have no desire for anyone I know to find out about my porn writing. I'm generally out (though I am quite cautious about revealing my sexuality to new acquaintances), but I am lucky in that I am actually a writer by trade, so I don't have to worry about being fired. I am sorry that the same is not true for you. Rest assured that I will never press for more details than you are comfortable sharing._

_I am fairly new to the world of fandom, compared to you, at least. I actually started out writing erotica professionally before picking up slash fiction as a hobby. I publish under a pen name, of course. Maybe someday I will tell you what it is. ;) How I wound up writing fanfiction is a bit of a story._

_I got out of this conservative shithole for college, went to a school in the most liberal town in the state. I came out then, and had planned to stay far away from my hometown because of it. But four years ago or so, my father fell ill and my mother needed help caring for him. My older brothers are dickbags and wouldn't contribute enough even though they still lived in town, and my sister had just had a baby, so against my better judgment I moved back to help out for a while. A few months later, my father died, and while I was still dealing with that I broke my foot. Long story short, I wound up addicted to painkillers. I'm luckier than a lot of other people in that it was relatively short-lived. About a year and a half in, I started dating a man with whom I'd hoped to have a future, but after a few months the addiction got to be too much for him and he left, and that convinced me to go into rehab. Anyhow, that whole fiasco pretty much cleared out my savings so I'm still stuck in this town (hell, in my mom's house) til I can save up to move._

_I started watching Devil Boys a couple months before rehab. I'd heard of slash, because I used to be on LiveJournal and even if you're not into fandom, you kind of just run into it there. Like I said, I was already writing erotica professionally, so it wasn't exactly a huge leap. Fanfiction provided an escape that I really needed at the time. I was having trouble writing the stuff my publisher wanted, but in fic I could be so much more flexible than in my professional writing. I could write things for fun instead of because I knew it would sell. I love the way that fic readers actually_ want _you to abuse the same tropes over and over again; it doesn't matter if they've read ten pretend boyfriend fics today, if you can come up with even the slightest new twist people are ecstatic. So it kind of got me through, kept me writing_ something _til I was in a decent enough headspace to write what I needed to to earn a living._

_Well, this is now even longer than your email, and while I (hopefully) haven't said much to offend, I've almost certainly managed to depress the hell out of you. I'd love to hear the story of how Spirk helped you come to terms with your sexuality, by the way, if you're willing to tell. But again, please don't feel the need to share anything that makes you uncomfortable._

_-Angel_

 

_ _

_Image: Split picture of Dean and Cas sitting at their laptops, both thinking "I gotta get out of Wichita"._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, this fic was started (and halfway written) before Tumblr rolled out their messaging system. So Dean and Cas meet in the summer of 2015, and don't have that option.
> 
> **Warning:** There is NSFW art at the end of this chapter! There is another warning when you get to it.

Dean is really starting to look forward to Mondays. Usually, like most red-blooded Americans, he would be loathe to get out of bed early and get to work after a weekend of sleeping in—but that was before he had extra incentive in the form of the hot new volunteer who comes in to help out Monday mornings.

Dean's only regret is that he can't stare more, since a) that would be weird and rude and b) his coworkers might start to wonder. Because this guy Cas is just _made of sex_. Messy dark hair, bright blue eyes, five o'clock shadow at 9am. He wears either hippie tunics or tight t-shirts that show exactly how well-toned he is, and jeans that must be tailor-made for his ass. Oh, and a voice that sounds like whiskey driving down a gravel road. And a smile that transforms him in an instant from sex god to absolutely adorable. And probably a lot more, but that's more than enough to keep Dean interested.

Today is Cas's fourth week, and he's settled into the routine pretty easily. Most of their volunteers are retirees, so having someone young enough that his joints aren't falling apart means that he tends to get way more accomplished in two hours than Dean is used to. One of his tasks is boxing the returned DVDs into their theft-proof cases. He usually happens to be doing this on the front counter at the same time that Dean is counting out money from late fees and doing some administrative stuff on the main computer out there, so they have a few minutes to exchange idle chatter since the library's not open yet.

They don't delve too deep into their personal lives or anything—it's just a ten-to-fifteen minute conversation once a week with someone they hardly know, after all. But Dean learns that Cas is a freelancer; the whole reason he has time to come in to the library in the morning is because he sets his own schedule. He tells Cas he's lived in Wichita his whole life (which isn't quite true, but close enough), going to Wichita State for both undergrad and his master's. Cas grew up here too, though he went to college at KU. But he eventually returned to Wichita because his family is here.

Besides those few details, they mostly joke about the movies Cas is casing, arguing over which are timeless and which are hilariously bad. Today seems to be no exception.

"What are you talking about, dude?" Dean snatches the DVD out of Cas's hand and waves it incredulously. "The Ninja Turtle movies are classics! Staples of my childhood, right there!"

"The first one, yes. _Secret of the Ooze_ , debatable. But Dean—" He snatches the DVD right back. " _Turtles in Time?_ This was not even a good movie when I was a child. I remember falling asleep in the movie theater."

Dean barely holds back from suggesting they hold a rewatch marathon and see how the films stack up. At his place. Pressed up against each other on his couch.

If Dean weren't scared of getting fired, and had any reason at all to think that Cas was into guys, he'd be all over that. But that's two reasons too many to hold himself back and just enjoy occasional glances while the guy is bent over shelving something.

And when he gets home from work, he now looks forward to getting online even more than usual, as well. His tentative fan mail to AngelofThursday quickly turned into a daily email exchange. They've both kept identifying details to a minimum, but they've had plenty to talk about just sticking to fandom topics. Reactions to the last season, expectations for the new season, tossing fic ideas back and forth, getting feedback on bits of writing, sending each other fic recs.

After a couple of weeks, Angel had brought up the idea of some kind of realtime communication, giving them the chance to prove that they are both old men who are befuddled and intimidated by modern technology. It was Dean who finally noticed that there seemed to be some kind of chat-like thing in the gmail window, just as they were about to resort to downloading AIM like it was 2001. He probably shouldn't be so proud of himself for noticing something that was staring them both right in the face, but oh well.

So now whenever they both happen to be online, they chat. It's… nice. Fun. Dean hadn't realized how badly he did need a friend that he could talk about his writing with; it was starting to become a lonely hobby, despite the relative popularity of his fics.

**AngelofThursday:** Please tell me not to write something where Neal is a baker who inherited the business from his grandfather and Allen is the hipster who just opened up a cupcake shop across town.

**RambleOn** : You should definitely write that.

**AngelofThursday** : You really don't want the next chapter of Somebody That I Used to Know, do you?

**RambleOn** : No wait, you should write _that_.

**AngelofThursday** : It's like you took a class on how to be unhelpful.

**RambleOn** : I'm not the one who tries to juggle like ten fics at once. I can hardly handle one at a time.

**AngelofThursday** : Well, mine aren't exactly complicated fantasy epics.  
Speaking of - I've been meaning to ask, do you write original fiction?  
I mean, I know you couldn't show me anything published because real names

**RambleOn** : Not really?

**AngelofThursday** : Do you not know?

**RambleOn** : :P I've, like, started a story or two but never finished anything.  
Sure as hell haven't had anything published.

**AngelofThursday** : You're good at worldbuilding and plot, the two things I suck at but that are essential to getting fantasy published.  
Excellent at worldbuilding and plot, in fact.

**RambleOn** : Eh, I dunno about that.  
I mean, I guess relative to, like, everything else those are my strengths, but only because I started out writing gen Harry Potter fics.  
Those were pretty much the only things I thought about then.

**AngelofThursday** : It doesn't really matter how you developed your skills, only that they're very apparent now.  
And marketable.

**RambleOn** : I've got a day job, remember?   
One I went to grad school for and would like to keep.  
Not like I've got much of a social life  
but  
IDK if I have time for work, fic, limited social interaction, _and_ original writing for publication.

**AngelofThursday** : Fair enough.  
Though do you _really_ require that limited social interaction?  
_Really?_

**RambleOn** : Ass. :P

**AngelofThursday** : Oh my.  
You're right, I should definitely add a rimming scene to this chapter…

**RambleOn** : Oh my fucking god.  
This is what I get for hanging out with someone who writes porn, isn't it?

**AngelofThursday** : Well, it's certainly what you get for hanging out with someone who writes _good_ porn.

**RambleOn** : I could make a joke about your high opinion of your own work, but let's face it, it's true.

**AngelofThursday** : :)  
Okay, now that we've completed the kissing each other's asses portion of tonight's agenda…

**RambleOn** : …

**AngelofThursday** : That was not _intended_ to be another rimming joke.

**RambleOn** : And yet.

**AngelofThursday** : Can we start over?

**RambleOn** : What, you think that would prevent rimming jokes?

**AngelofThursday** : SO how was work today?  
At your mystery job where you don't write porn.

**RambleOn** : But sometimes I do in my head, because there's this new guy who is hot as hell.  
I only get to work with him once a week but holy shit.

**AngelofThursday** : Think you've got a chance with him?

**RambleOn** : Not enough of one to risk getting fired for. :P

**AngelofThursday** : I'm sorry. :(  
If it helps, I am in somewhat the same position, though it doesn't put my job in jeopardy, obviously.  
But in terms of having recently met an incredibly attractive man who is frustratingly straight.

**RambleOn** : I don't even have any actual evidence of this guy's sexuality  
But around here the odds are not in my favor, y'know?  
He seems cool, but lots of guys seem cool until you flirt with them, and then they're ready to punch you in the face.

**AngelofThursday** : Tell me about it.

\---

As the weeks go by, Castiel finds himself getting a little frustrated with RO's embargo on personal details. They're friends now, and honestly Cas is kind of wondering if they could eventually be more than that—but there's no way that's happening without a bit more openness. But at the same time, he completely understands RO's hesitance, especially with his job at risk.

He finally decides that the best way to earn RO's trust is to be the one to start sharing and just hope he follows suit. He's not gonna hand the guy his name, address, and phone number, but he can start slow. The first thing he does is admit to RO that he publishes his professional erotica under the pen name C.J. Milton, explaining that Milton is his mother's maiden name.

**RambleOn** : dude.  
_dude._

**AngelofThursday** : uh… yes?

**RambleOn** : So I may have gone on a slight binge of CJ Milton's work.

**AngelofThursday** : Oh my.

**RambleOn** : Holy shit, man.  
I wasn't sure they'd allow the sex scenes in something published to be as hot as the ones in your fics  
but _holy shit_

**AngelofThursday** : Glad you enjoyed them. ;)

**RambleOn** : Oh I enjoyed 'em all right.  
Enjoyed 'em til I was a little sore, actually.

**AngelofThursday** : The highest of compliments for any writer of erotica.

**AngelofThursday** : Would you like a preview of the one I'm working on?

**RambleOn** : Hell yeah.

**AngelofThursday** : Context: The novel is about an Avengers-style group of superheroes. Paul is telekinetic, Eric has heightened senses, like a Daredevil who can see. They're in a storage closet.

**RambleOn** : Oooh, I like it already. I told you I'm into MCU. ;)

**AngelofThursday** : Here, I think it would be easiest to just give you a few paragraphs on google docs…

**AngelofThursday** : It's a first draft, so don't judge too harshly.

_Eric turned his face to one side as Paul pressed him up against the wall, grinding against his ass. A growl right into his hypersensitive ear had him shuddering and moaning, all other sensations overridden for a few seconds._

_He realized suddenly that Paul was moving down, scratching and biting his way down Eric's back—but Eric still couldn't move his hands from where his wrists had been held to the wall on either side of his head. He dropped his head back, panting as he struggled against the invisible restraints. His dick was straining in his jeans, and he was very close to giving in and humping the damn wall when Paul finally reached around and unzipped his fly._

_With a harsh tug, his pants and boxers were down to his knees. Eric let out a whimper as the head of his dick slid against the smooth, cold paint covering the wall._

_"Please tell me you've got some lube," he gasped, "because if you're not about to fuck me we need to put this on hold until you can."_

_"Oh, I came prepared," Paul's voice rumbled behind him, "but we'll get there. No rush."_

_Eric couldn't tell if it was Paul's hand or mind that reached between his legs to massage his balls just then, but whatever it was, it had him panting so he could barely get out his next words._

_"No rush, right. Just, y'know, four other people in the building, any of whom could come looking for the shit in this closet or just walk past the door and hear us. Or maybe start wondering where the fuck we got off to and come looking."_

_He felt the stretch of his skin as Paul pulled his ass cheeks apart._

_"That's the best part," Paul said._

_And then Eric felt something warm and wet and soft slide against his hole, and any thought as to who might hear them from the hallway (or hell, halfway across the house) was forgotten as he cried out._

**RambleOn** : On the one hand, I can't believe you left me hanging right there.  
On the other hand, I'm already hard enough from that much.

**AngelofThursday** : Well I'm sure you know how to take care of that particular problem. ;)

**RambleOn** : Dude, I'm not gonna be like "Sorry, hang on, lemme go jack off and then we can continue this conversation."  
I don't have many manners, but I've got more than that.

**AngelofThursday** : Who says we have to stop talking?

**RambleOn** : Um  
Just to clarify  
Are you or are you not suggesting cybersex?

**AngelofThursday** : I'm pretty sure we started this conversation with your admitting to masturbating to the point of soreness to things I wrote.  
So if it makes you more comfortable  
just think of it as improvised fic. :)

**RambleOn** : So that's a yes.

**AngelofThursday** : Pretty much.  
Obviously, if you don't want to, that's fine.

**RambleOn** : Okay, just checking.  
I mean, I'm down  
don't get me wrong  
just it could be awkward if we weren't on the same page here.

**AngelofThursday** : Well, we appear to be.  
Imagine I'm the hot guy at work.  
What's he look like?

**RambleOn** : Dark hair, blue eyes… hot?

**AngelofThursday** : That's convenient actually, because I do happen to have dark hair and blue eyes.  
Can't make any promises on the hot part, but this is why you're picturing the guy from work and not me.

**RambleOn** : Okay, okay, I'm imagining you're the hot guy from work.

**AngelofThursday** : Are you sitting at a desk right now?

**RambleOn** : Yeah.

**AngelofThursday** : Excellent. So if you spread your knees I can easily kneel between them.

**RambleOn** : I suppose you could, yeah.

**AngelofThursday** : Do that.  
Spread your knees, I mean.

**RambleOn** : Okay.

**AngelofThursday** : Good.  
But before I sink down to my knees in front of you  
I want you to take your shirt off.  
Is it off?

**RambleOn** : Like, for real?  
In real life?

**AngelofThursday** : Yes.

**RambleOn** : um, okay.

**AngelofThursday** : Just do it.  
I'm waiting.

**RambleOn** : okay okay  
It's off, it's off.  
And now I feel like I should ask permission before I open up my pants.  
Which I'd really like to do, btw  
Because if I was hard earlier, I'm in fucking pain now.

**AngelofThursday** : Good to know.  
And yes, you can.

**RambleOn** : Unzip my pants?  
Or ask permission to unzip my pants?

**AngelofThursday** : Hm. Let's go with ask permission.

**RambleOn** : Fuck  
Can I please unzip my pants?

**AngelofThursday** : You actually haven't yet?

**RambleOn** : Fuck no I haven't  
jsyk the longer you make me wait the harder I'm getting and I would really, really like to unzip them please

**AngelofThursday** : Huh.  
I didn't realize you'd be quite this submissive.  
What a pleasant surprise.

**RambleOn** : I wasn't expecting you to be so bossy.  
No, wait, yes I was.  
I totally was.  
Why do you think I was on board with this?

**AngelofThursday** : At any rate, yes, go ahead and open up your pants.  
You can take your dick out, but don't stroke it yet.  
In fact, don't touch it at all once it's out.

**RambleOn** : *whine*

**AngelofThursday** : Very unbecoming of you.  
We'll get there.  
First, I want you to play with your nipples.  
Because I would definitely stop there on my way down.  
I've been with more than one guy who didn't realize how sensitive his nipples were until my tongue and teeth were all over them  
just like they'd be all over yours.  
Some people go straight to the rough stuff, sucking and biting…  
I get better results with light touches  
little flicks with the tip of my tongue and barely scraping my teeth across them.  
Or else just firm, soft, slow licks  
dragging my entire tongue across your nipple while I look up at you  
while my thumbs massage your inner thighs  
building up anticipation before my hands go any higher.

**RambleOn** : fuck  
fuck yes please all of that

**AngelofThursday** : Mmm, I appreciate the lack of punctuation or capitalization, but you're still far too coherent if you can type all those words.  
I suppose I'd better move on.  
I better kneel down between your knees  
run my hands up and down your thighs  
lean in and suck on your balls first  
lick underneath them.  
By the way, don't touch your dick yet.  
Still.  
You can play with your balls if you'd like.  
But you had better not touch your dick until I tell you to, no matter what I tell you to imagine.

**RambleOn** : okok

**AngelofThursday**. Better. :)  
So I'm kneeling in front of you, between your spread knees, rolling one of your balls around in my mouth  
my bright blue eyes looking up through my lashes  
jsyk  
my eyes are VERY blue  
and they'd keep looking up at you as I flatten my tongue against the base of your dick and run it all the way up to the head  
s l o w l y  
wrap my hand around the bottom  
then run the tip of my tongue across your slit  
taste your precome  
take just the tip of your dick between my lips and suck it all out  
swirl my tongue around a little more to make sure I get every drop  
god I love the taste of precome  
watery and salty  
SO much better than come  
and I bet I could milk more out of you  
squeeze your dick a little in my hand and pull  
just a bit  
while I massage the head with my tongue

**RambleOn** : fuck fuck fuck  
please  
please can I touch it please?

**AngelofThursday** : Go ahead.  
Only because you begged so nicely. :)  
I like that I'm the one on my knees but you're the one begging.  
I'm sure you'd be begging for more after I've spent all this time teasing your head.  
You've been so patient  
you deserve a reward  
so I'd go ahead and swallow you down  
get it down nice and deep  
into my throat  
swallow so you can feel that hot wet suction all the way down  
now that I've got you nice and wet I might pull off for a minute  
pump you with my hand  
slow and firm  
so I can get a good look at your face  
then I'd go back down a little slower  
suck on your head again  
move my head up and down a little so it catches on my lips  
take a little more of you in every time I go down  
til I've got you squeezed tight between my tongue and the roof of my mouth  
sucking hard  
fuck you know by now I'd have my own pants open, right?  
I'd have one hand working the bottom of your dick but the other one  
the other one I'd be using on myself  
like I'm doing right now  
because I'm so fucking hard just thinking about sucking you off

**RambleOn** : fuck I'm so close

**AngelofThursday** : then it's time for me to get you down deep again  
swallow around your dick  
play with your balls a little  
then slide a finger back to tease your hole while I swallow and suck  
maybe I'd get just the tip in before you come down my throat  
god I'd be fucking moaning all over you  
or maybe I'd pull back just enough so you come in my mouth  
and when you're done I can spit it into my hand and use it on myself  
fuck yes  
jacking myself with your come  
down on my knees in front of you where you can watch  
fuck

**RambleOn** : brb messy

**AngelofThursday** : same

**RambleOn** : Holy shit you're good at that.  
I'm gonna have to repay you sometime. ;)

 

**NSFW ART AHEAD!**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PG's Axiom of Smutty Discussion: As the time spent in a chat room full of fic writers goes to infinity, the probability of discussing rimming approaches 1.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Dean doesn't really think of it in terms of _having sex with_ Angel, or becoming "friends with benefits" or anything. After all, like Angel pointed out, they've been doing basically the same thing all along, just not in realtime. It's not like if you started sleeping with a friend in real life. Dean doesn't even know if he'd actually be attracted to the guy if they met, for god's sake.

All the same, though, something shifts in their friendship after that. Dean finds himself opening up more—still holding back anything that could get traced back to his real name, but talking about a lot more than fandom stuff. About his mom dying when he was a kid, his dad's alcoholism, basically raising his brother himself. How the combination of being a stereotypical people-pleasing kid of an alcoholic, desperate to stay in his dad's good graces, combined with being raised under John's rampant homophobia, all built up to a level of denial so deep that it eventually put him in the incredibly embarrassing position of being informed by his _girlfriend_ , whom he'd been close to _proposing to_ , that he was gay.

And it's not one-sided. Angel tells Dean more about his family, his dickbag older brothers who were too busy fighting to help anyone else, his father's death, and his experiences with addiction. They talk about the pros and cons of being out in a conservative area. Angel's mother (and his father before he died) doesn't exactly embrace his sexuality, but he describes her as "tolerant." For example, he's agreed not to bring one night stands home as long as, if he is in an actual relationship with a man, his boyfriend will be allowed in the house anytime without comment, if not necessarily _warmly welcomed_. It sounds generally tense, but worlds better than Dean's standing with his dad.

\---

**AngelofThursday** : You know you never told me the Spirk story  
You mentioned that when you and L had the big conversation you'd already started wondering  
I'm assuming that was the spirk thing?

**RambleOn** : Oh right!  
How did I not tell you that story first?  
You gotta call me out on plot holes like that, man.

**AngelofThursday** : Well, consider yourself called out.

**RambleOn** : Okay, then, I guess it's story time!  
So yeah, I told you my friend C got me into HP fic in college  
but I didn't ship anybody, just read and wrote gen  
C was (still is) into drarry, but I could never see it  
not cause they're both guys, just couldn't see harry ever going for draco  
anyhow  
When the ST reboot came out, I hadn't really been that heavy into the fic for a couple years  
like I still read a few now and then by my favorite authors, but not much  
wasn't writing  
And you know I love TNG  
but I never got into TOS really  
but then the reboot came out and suddenly I really wanted fic?  
It was just like HP  
I didn't care about shipping, I just wanted more stories set in that universe  
or TNG but there's not near as much TNG fic out there  
C got into it too  
and after a while I was like damn it, there's so little gen  
and she was like  
look, I know you're not a big shipper  
but seriously all the best stuff in this fandom is spirk  
just try it  
and she sent me some recs  
Stuff heavy on plot and worldbuilding like I like but there was still the romance.  
And I read a few and the plots and characterization and shit was great but  
I went back to her and I was like ugh, this is why I don't read shippy stuff  
it's so weird and unrealistic  
and she was like what?  
And I said I don't understand why fic authors always think that they should write love like it's a stupid romantic comedy instead of how it really feels.  
and she was like what?  
And I was like you know, movie studios think they need to sell this over-the-top unrealistic shit and call it "falling in love"  
when being in love is nothing like that  
and I don't understand why fic writers, who don't have anyone to answer to and are proud that they can do stuff the studios can't, don't do it more honestly

**AngelofThursday** : oh honey

**RambleOn** : Yeah that period in my life was one long oh honey  
anyhow  
obviously C was like ummmmmm  
what do you think being in love feels like?  
and I was like I dunno, it's not that big a deal, it feels pretty much the same as being friends but with sex

**AngelofThursday** : oh honey

RambleOn: yeah this is the point in the story where C literally did say oh honey  
long story short, first she floated the idea that maybe I was aromantic  
but the thing was  
after her "oh honey" I shut my mouth  
and did not tell her the rest of what I was thinking  
which was that how fic writers describe having a crush is what I would call hero worship

**AngelofThursday:** oh  
oh honey

**RambleOn** : Yeah.  
I was kinda oh honeying myself by that point  
The conversation with L happened really soon after  
like a couple weeks  
So when L started asking me those questions  
and I could see that what I thought were reasonable answers were not the answers she'd been hoping for  
I was like oh no  
the fic writers were all right  
I really do have a crush on Harrison Ford

**AngelofThursday** : lmao  
sorry not at you  
just "oh no the fic writers were right" in general

**RambleOn** : lol yeah  
anyhow then I kinda threw myself into spirk and stony  
And was sorta like well shit I guess I better pay attention to this shit  
I have a lot to learn

**AngelofThursday** : oh honey  
tell me you didn't learn how to have gay sex from fic

**RambleOn** : haha no  
sort of  
no  
pretty much the first thing I did was take a few vacation days to visit C  
and let her play wingman  
and I mean I'd _gotten_ plenty of blowjobs  
so it's not like I couldn't figure out the other way around  
the first couple probably weren't amazing but I'd like to think I caught on quick  
especially since I was 25 and having sex with _people I was actually attracted to_ for the first time ever  
I was pretty damn enthusiastic  
although cards on the table I haven't bottomed  
it's just not something I'm comfortable doing with random dude #3 from a bar, y'know?

**AngelofThursday** : totally understandable  
trust is important for that, especially your first time

**RambleOn** : Anyhow, I was more talking about learning about the emotional stuff  
which sounds even stupider

**AngelofThursday** : no not at all  
I mean, that's one of the reasons we have literature at all, right?  
is to share and learn about the human condition from each other

**RambleOn** : yeah we'll go with that  
that sounds way better than  
"so a grown man can figure out what a crush feels like"

\---

**RambleOn** : dude  
I'll admit, I haven't read that many group sex scenes  
but I think that was the first one where I wasn't totally confused trying to keep track of where everyone was  
good job

**AngelofThursday** : I'm glad you enjoyed it.  
I think practical experience probably helped.

**RambleOn** : !!??!?!  
c'mon man don't leave me hanging

**AngelofThursday** : *shrug*  
I told you I was promiscuous in college  
I basically majored in being stoned  
to be honest, the most surprising thing about my pill addiction  
was that it didn't happen until my mid 20s and started out totally legally  
because five years before that I was pretty much never sober  
but it was never a legitimate addiction

**RambleOn** : yeah I sure knew people like that in college  
no problem going without when they went home for a week  
but pretty much high 24/7 the rest of the time  
But too much pot did not help you write group sex.

**AngelofThursday** : Well, it sort of did.  
In that I was stoned out of my mind during the orgies.

**RambleOn** : The orgies.

**AngelofThursday** : The orgies.

**RambleOn** : Well then.

**AngelofThursday** : I also have a bit of a confession to make.

**RambleOn** : More of a confession than "the orgies"?  
lol

**AngelofThursday** : Well, it ties directly into those.  
I am not a gold star gay.  
In fact, I'm not 100% homosexual.

**RambleOn** : Okay, I'm actually surprised.  
So I guess these were coed orgies?

**AngelofThursday** : Yes.  
I've never had any romantic interest in a woman, and there are only a handful I've ever had any sort of sexual interest in.  
I'm probably a 5-5.5 on the Kinsey scale, whatever that's worth.  
So I'm comfortable identifying as gay.  
But yes, coed orgies.  
Honestly most of my sexual experience with women is my friend Meg, who orchestrated the orgies.

**RambleOn** : You've mentioned her.  
You still hang out with her, right?  
So… still doing the orgies?

**AngelofThursday** : Ha, no.  
She and I are truly just friends now.  
I haven't had sex with a woman since before I started dating Ezekiel.  
Haven't had group sex since before then, either.  
Don't really have any desire to go back to either one.  
I guess I'm getting boring in my old age.

**RambleOn** : Nah nothing wrong with settling down.  
I'm the boring one here.  
trust me  
if I told you what my job was you'd agree

**AngelofThursday** : I know it's something with kids, that can't be boring.

**RambleOn** : True, kids are never boring.  
infuriating sometimes, disgusting sometimes, but never boring.  
not that kind of boring anyhow, like, white-picket-fence june cleaver boring  
I get laid like twice a year if I'm _lucky_. That kind of boring.

**AngelofThursday** : At least I have Meg and Balthazar to drag me out to wild parties now and then.  
Besides, as long as we write porn we can't be that boring, right?

**RambleOn** : Fuck yeah, man.  
That's the spirit.  
Btw I've got some news.

**AngelofThursday** : Oh?

**RambleOn** : Speaking of IRL friends  
I came out to my friend B.

**AngelofThursday** : How did it go?

**RambleOn** : Fine. It went totally fine and he barely blinked.

**AngelofThursday** : That's terrific!  
Congrats.

**RambleOn** : I'm still half-terrified he's going to slip and say something in front of someone  
but honestly when would he even do that?  
like I told him I don't hook up with local guys anyhow  
so he's not gonna try and set me up or play wingman at a bar or something  
and given that he's been happily married forever we don't even talk about hot chicks or anything  
idk why I was so scared, or why I still am.  
like, him knowing hardly even matters, y'know?

**AngelofThursday** : Of course it does.  
He's your friend, and it's exhausting hiding huge parts of your life from your friends.  
You don't have to hide from him anymore.

**RambleOn** : Well, still not telling him I write gay porn or anything.  
And I spend like half my free time on that these days  
so I'm still hiding plenty  
but yeah  
not hiding that will feel good.


	4. Chapter 4

It's not until a couple of months after they first had cybersex (and no, it was definitely not the last time—Dean owed the guy, after all, and then once it's happened twice why stop there?) that Dean realizes that he may be starting to have not-entirely-platonic feelings for a guy he's never seen, whose real name he doesn't know. Who could, for all Dean knows, be lying about every detail of his life. Who could possibly not even be a 31-year-old male as he claims.

But even if he's lying about everything, he's doing a damn good job of being one of the best friends Dean has ever had. Maybe the best he's ever had who isn't his brother or a lesbian, and Dean is like 99% sure Angel isn't either of those things, though he supposes lesbian isn't _entirely_ off the table. Angel can lie about his dad's death, or his addiction, or his experiences being out, but the support he's given Dean is real. His sense of humor can't be faked.

Complicating the issue is the fact that Dean thinks he also might be developing an actual crush on Cas at the library. Which makes more sense to him, because he _knows_ for a fact he's attracted to Cas and would hit that in a heartbeat. The more comfortable they get with each other, the more fun they have during their brief window of interaction (which Dean may be finding ways to stretch out recently). And sometimes, when their eyes meet, Dean feels something spark the air between them that he can almost let himself believe is mutual attraction.

But if he lets himself think about it for too long, he realizes that he knows almost nothing about the guy, and it seems almost more insane to have a crush on someone you barely know but think is hot, than to have a crush on someone you know intimately but have never seen. Or maybe they're both crazy, or maybe neither one is.

He would probably freak out less about both of them if he didn't have such a shitty history with regards to figuring out how he feels about people. If he hadn't managed to spend two years convinced he was in love with Lisa, or spent a freaking _decade_ not getting that other guys really do react to girls the way he reacts to Indiana Jones. They're not just exaggerating to sound cool.

He's _pretty sure_ that, several years later, he has a decent handle on which affections and attractions are actually platonic versus romantic or sexual. While the cluster of feelings he has for Angel are a different cluster than those for Cas, he knows that doesn't necessarily mean that one is totally platonic while the other is not, especially since there is some overlap. But he's never experienced anything beyond basic physical attraction for more than one guy at a time before, at least not since he started recognizing his feelings for what they are, so piecing out which feelings go where is a little overwhelming.

But it's not like he's gonna date either one of them anytime soon, so maybe Dean needs to just chill the fuck out and let this all be whatever it's gonna be for now.

\---

**RambleOn** : I'm not saying you don't have a life  
because I have no room to talk here  
but  
you weren't online ALL DAY today   
and it almost made me wonder if I need to contact your next of kin.  
So what were you up to?

**AngelofThursday** : Oh my god I'm not sure which of us I'm more sad for.  
Although I would like to point out that I regularly go all day without seeing you online, Mr Real Job that Doesn't Involve Dicking Around Online and Telling Your Editor It's Research  
Just because suddenly it's Saturday and you're home doesn't mean I have to be. :P

**RambleOn** : Well I doubt you got a Real Job That Doesn't Involve Dicking Around Online and Telling Your Editor It's Research that happens to only run on Saturdays.  
So since you clearly have more of a life than me  
let me live vicariously and tell me what the hell you were doing all day.

**AngelofThursday** : One of my IRL friends  
Remember those?  
I know you have a few, too.

**RambleOn** : :P

**AngelofThursday** : Anyhow  
One of my IRL friends showed up unannounced this morning to drag me somewhere.

**RambleOn** : Oooh, where?

**AngelofThursday** : So I know this is the kind of identifying information we've been avoiding, but I'm comfortable telling you and it's useful context.  
And you ABSOLUTELY don't have to reciprocate.  
But it's helpful to the story to know where I live.  
So the super-conservative city I live in is Wichita, KS.  
Which is only about 2 hours from Topeka.

 

Dean slams his laptop shut.

_Shit shit fuck fuck fuck_.

He stands up and paces around his house, trying not to have a panic attack.

Angel lives in Wichita. He did _not_ see that coming. Angel could live in his fucking _neighborhood_. Dean could run into him at the fucking _grocery store_. Hell, he could be someone Dean _knows_.

Which is ridiculous. Wichita may not be enormous, but it's not a small town. It's got like 400,000 people. It's a fucking city, with suburbs and everything. Dean hasn't gotten involved in the gay community for obvious reasons, though he knows it exists. So there is like practically no chance that he knows Angel.

And even if he did, it's not like Angel's going to out him. Dean's known the guy for five months now, he knows he's not going to show up at the library during Story Hour and stand behind the group of kids and yell " _Hey Dean, I read the gay porn story you posted last night, it was great!_ " He understands Dean's position and why he's not open about his sexuality right now. Yeah, he's kind of poked Dean a little about it—nothing that makes Dean uncomfortable, and it's thanks to him that Dean's out to Benny now, really. But he's been really respectful of Dean's boundaries all the time, there's no reason to think that would change even if they met.

Oh. If they met? Dean realizes that somehow in his worry about what happens if he already knows Angel, he's managed to skip right over the idea that even if they haven't met… they could. They could hang out. He could have an actual, in-real-life friend who is gay and who watches _Devil Boys_ and ships Neal and Allen and reads and writes fic…

But then there's his maybe-some-kind-of-feelings that are developing for Angel. What if they meet and he wants more and Angel doesn't? Or vice versa? And—ah, fuck. He's been imagining _Cas_ whenever they get off together. Cas whom he definitely has a crush on, whatever he might feel for Angel. Cas who is possibly the most attractive man Dean has ever spent any amount of time with. And who he'll keep seeing every Monday no matter what happens between him and Angel. Dean's not shallow, under normal circumstances his standards aren't ridiculously high. As long as Angel is, like, average-looking, Dean is pretty sure he'd be attracted to the guy given how close they are. But if he has to compete with a guy like Cas? Not that it would be a competition, obviously, because Dean barely knows Cas and Cas is probably not even the least bit interested. But the imagining Cas thing, that makes it all weird.

Dean reaches into his fridge and grabs a beer. He needs to calm the fuck down, because now he's spinning out situations that, even if they _might_ happen, are a ways into the future and who knows what could happen between now and then. This is all _if_ he and Angel decide to meet and _if_ either of them is actually interested in being anything more than friends, and like ten other _if_ s besides.

Just because they live in the same city doesn't mean they _have to_ meet. Even just as friends. Angel would understand that. Hell, Dean doesn't even _have_ to tell Angel he lives in Wichita, too, but at this point that feels almost more like lying than just withholding information. And he hasn't actually lied to Angel about anything. So, he should really fess up to that, but Angel will understand if he doesn't want to meet. Right? Of course he will, he's been awesome about everything so far. He's… awesome. Ugh. Feelings.

Despite having come to a reasonable and logical conclusion about the whole thing, Dean is still feeling unsettled, anxious. He decides to order a pizza and call Charlie. He's told her about Angel, and about Cas; she'll have some opinions on what to do here. Which doesn't mean he'll take her advice, but she'll definitely have opinions.

\---

Cas is startled when Ro (he's started pronouncing it that way in his head, and has joked about calling the guy Laren, but Ro insists that's a girl's name, even if it is a _Bajoran_ girl's name) suddenly goes offline. Not that it's unheard of; both of them have slightly unreliable wifi at home.

But when Ro is still gone an hour later, and hasn't sent an email or anything in explanation, he's a little worried. Which is ridiculous; even if Ro was serious about being worried when Cas was gone all day, being gone for _an hour_ doesn't warrant such a response.

Maybe it's not just the wifi, maybe his internet is out completely. Or hell, his power. Cas looks at a weather map and sees a pretty nasty storm front over the eastern third of the country. He doesn't know where Ro lives, of course, but it looks like if it's pretty much anywhere over there, there was a decent chance of his power getting knocked out.

Cas had been hoping to have him look over the fic chapter he just finished. He finally emails it to Ro, with a note saying he hopes he's okay and not out of power or anything. He considers doing actual work, but it's Saturday evening and he's not a _complete_ loser, even if he does feel like spending an evening alone after being at a crowded protest with Balthazar all day. Balthazar can be draining enough on his own; mixing him with Westboro Baptist Church on one side of the road and their counter-protest on the other side has Cas completely wiped.

He finally decides to work on the novel he checked out of the library on Dean's recommendation. He's had it for weeks, after all, and is only halfway through. It's great; Dean's taste in books is as good as his taste in movies. It's just that (as Cas can guiltily admit to himself, but not to anyone else and certainly not Dean) he doesn't have as much time for reading original fiction since he got involved with fanfic.

The next morning, he forces himself to go for a run and eat breakfast before he's allowed to check his AngelofThursday email account. He sighs in relief when there's a message from Ro there. But the content is definitely not what he was expecting.

_Hey Angel,_

_Sorry for running out on you like that last night. My power didn't go out, or my wifi or anything. That was just me freaking out and being a chicken, plain and simple._

_The thing is, I panicked when you said you live in Wichita… because I live there, too. Which, I know I know, shouldn't make me freak out. So we live in the same city, that doesn't change anything. But you know how I am._

_So, yeah… I know this means that we could meet each other, hang out. It'd probably be awesome, actually. But I'm hoping you'll understand if I'm not comfortable doing that yet. It's not like I don't trust you—I know you'd never intentionally do anything to put my job in jeopardy. This is all_ my _issues. Honestly, if nothing else this kind of highlights to me how much I need to get out of here and find a place to live where there won't be torches and pitchforks if parents find out I'm gay. Because I shouldn't be_ this _anxious about making a fucking friend. But I am, and I'm sorry._

_Hopefully it won't take me too long to get used to the idea and chill the fuck out. Because it_ would _actually be really cool to meet you, and to have even one person in this city who knows… well, I was going to say "all my secrets," but when it gets down to it, what you are is someone who knows_ me _. One of I'd say three people on earth, and the other two aren't in Wichita. Fuck, I don't know what I'm so afraid of. Sorry I panicked, sorry I'm still kind of panicking._

_-Ro_

And that's when Cas realizes he's fucking falling in love with some guy he met on the internet who's closeted as hell and didn't even know he was gay for way too long and is still trying to get past the damage done by his internalized homophobia. Some guy who creates amazingly intricate fantasy worlds, who is definitely a better writer than Cas, who could totally do this professionally if he had more confidence in himself. Some guy who gave up his adolescence to raise his brother and kind of recognizes that this messed with him a little but clearly doesn't have any clue that no, most teenagers would _not_ have sacrificed the way he did. (Some guy who, honestly, probably needs some therapy, because he deserves so much better than to live with the anxiety and self-hatred his father has saddled him with.)

Some guy whose real name he doesn't know, whose face he's never seen, whose voice he's never heard.

That's crazy.

But he rereads the email, and all he can think about is how badly he wants this man in his arms. To tell him it's okay, it's _okay_ to be who he is, and that he deserves for people to know him.

And fuck, Cas doesn't even know if Ro has any feelings for him at all. In the email he just talks about being friends, but then, if he's this anxious just about that, obviously he wouldn't press for more even if he wanted it. Of course, they've been doing the cybersex thing for a while now, but they've done a pretty damn good job of avoiding talking about whether that actually _means_ anything. Is it really just an extension of reading each other's explicit stories?

Hell, Cas isn't even sure what his intentions were when he started that whole thing. He definitely hadn't been falling for Ro yet then. That was back when they basically just talked about writing and fandom. The cybersex just seemed like a good idea at the time. Ro was horny, Cas was horny, why the hell not? But doing it repeatedly with the same person, sometimes in the same conversation as sharing fairly personal stories about their pasts… It wasn't meant to, but it definitely means something to Cas now.

And it was only after the sex started that their conversations had turned more personal. There's definitely a level of intimacy between them now, and when Cas thinks back, looks at some of the emails and messages they've exchanged, he can definitely trace its development to sometime around that first encounter.So maybe it means something to Ro, too.

So maybe it's okay for Cas to fall in love a little. For all he knows, if they meet in person there'll be no physical attraction, no spark of chemistry, and he'll have to adjust his expectations. But as long as he's prepared for that possibility, he thinks he can let himself just feel what he's going to feel for now.

Especially since the only other person he's had any interest in in the past few months is Dean, the children's librarian. Who is both gorgeous and funny, and whom Cas seems to click with when they talk, at least on some superficial level. Because they never talk about anything more personal than what they did over the weekend, and of course Cas often has to give a _very highly edited_ version of that.

But despite the occasional spark Cas is _sure_ he senses between them, Dean seems to be pretty straight. Cas overheard one of the other librarians tease Dean a few weeks ago, asking if he's even had a girlfriend since someone named Lisa. Dean said he's been too busy to get serious with anyone, but implied that he's been less-than-serious with plenty of women.

So Cas's little crush has been relegated to the "hopelessly unrequited" pile. Which is fine, really. He'd almost forgotten how fun a simple infatuation can be, when there's no pressure to move it beyond that. He can steal glances at Dean when nobody's looking, joke with him about the library's DVD collection, almost-flirt just enough to get him to smile but not get suspicious. He's just thankful that he's only there before the library is open to the public; if he actually had to watch Dean interact with small children, he might have to grow ovaries just so they could explode.

If Dean is off the table, there's no real reason to avoid his feelings for Ro. Especially now that meeting in person is an actual possibility. Not an immediate possibility, perhaps, but Cas can understand his hesitance. Hell, if they were going to meet tomorrow Cas would be kind of freaked out, too. So many ways that what they have now could go horribly wrong if they try to add variables like physical attraction. But he thinks it'd be worth the risk.

_Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. You could easily have used one of the excuses I handed you and kept the fact that we're in the same city to yourself, but I'm glad you didn't. I have to admit that I'm shocked that there's even one other person in this godforsaken cowtown who reads Neallen fic, but I'm certainly thrilled to find out that if there is, it's you._

_I fully understand, though, why you would be anxious about meeting in person, and I'm not at all offended. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable or push you into something you're not ready for. That said, if you ever do decide that you would be comfortable meeting, please let me know. Your friendship means a lot to me, and if I enjoy talking to you online this much I'm sure we would have a lot of fun together out in the "real world." But I'll leave that ball entirely in your court—I do, in fact, enjoy talking to you online a great deal and if that's the only thing you're ever comfortable with, I will continue to enjoy it._

_-Angel_

It's a couple of hours before Ro shows up online again, and Cas is relieved to find that this hasn't made anything awkward between them.

**RambleOn** : Hey sorry about that whole freakout thing.

**AngelofThursday** : Please don't apologize.  
Honestly, knowing you live around here, I find your level of caution even more understandable.  
It's certainly better than most of the state  
the more rural parts  
but for a city of this size  
well

**RambleOn** : Yeah.  
honestly I'd been thinking about it  
being a little more out  
I talked to C about it a few times  
thought maybe I'd go to pride this year and see what happened  
I could always pretend I was there as an ally right?  
then fucking Brownback

**AngelofThursday** : Ughhhhhh

**RambleOn** : taking down the fucking nondiscrimination law  
I can 500% guarantee you I'd be out of a job now  
and they wouldn't even have to make up a phony reason for it

**AngelofThursday** : I am so sorry  
you deserve so much better

**RambleOn** : You are the last person who needs to apologize for this shit, angel.

**AngelofThursday** : still

**RambleOn** : and sometimes I wonder anyhow  
it's not like there's NO gay community here  
people are out  
if I'm this chickenshit maybe having to live like this is exactly what I deserve

**AngelofThursday** : NO  
Please don't ever say things like that.  
You are a kind, funny, and talented man.  
You deserve to live your life  
and you deserve to have people know you.  
You deserve love.

**RambleOn** : Sorry  
I wasn't fishing for compliments  
You don't have to do that.

**AngelofThursday** : I know you weren't.  
That's why it's important that you hear the truth.  
Trust me, I can tell when someone is fishing for compliments  
and when it's actual low self-worth talking  
takes one to know one, as it were.

**RambleOn** : Yeah but you're actually awesome.

**AngleofThursday** : I'm an awesome ex-junkie who lives with my mother.  
And after over two years clean is barely getting back to the point of making a living wage in my chosen career.

**RambleOn** : Hell yeah  
You're the awesomest ex-junkie who lives with their mother I know.

**AngelofThursday** : Now you're just trying to keep me off the topic of how wonderful you are.

**RambleOn** : yes, yes I am  
and christ angel  
you can't just say stuff like that  
how do I make a blushing emoji on the computer?

**AngelofThursday** : You're not the boss of me.

**RambleOn** : Haha no shit.  
I am well aware that you'd rather be the boss of me.

**AngelofThursday** : true  
At any rate, I'd love to get together in person sometime, but I'm also completely fine with not meeting.  
So please, please don't feel any pressure about it, ok?

**RambleOn** : I'll try.

**AngelofThursday** : Exciting plans today?

**RambleOn** : Yeah right lol  
I did some work on my car this morning  
not in the mood to write  
have you watched jessica jones yet?

**AngelofThursday** : No, I haven't.  
If you're going to check out the first episode, I'll watch, too.

 

They wind up chatting their way through the episode together, then two more. He lets himself be a bit more affectionate towards Ro than he would usually be, even flirting a little bit. He's relieved and gratified when it doesn't seem to make Ro at all uncomfortable—and he even maybe flirts back, just a bit. Cas isn't going to push it or anything, but if he's going to let his feelings do whatever it is they want to do, it's good to know that there's at least some chance that they're returned. Because unlike the harmless infatuation with Dean, he really doesn't want himself to fall any farther here if it's definitely unrequited. He's pretty sure he's in too deep as it is.

 

Between all of that, he never does remember to tell Ro what it was he was doing all day Saturday.

Monday morning, though, while he's standing at the counter popping DVDs into their cases as usual, Dean comes out to do some kind of money counting thing, as usual.

"So what'd you do this weekend?" Dean asks, after they've exchanged basic pleasantries.

Cas pauses for a moment. Yes, he's given up on Dean being interested in men, or him specifically, but it would still make things a bit awkward when he's here if he finds out Dean's a rampant homophobe. On the other hand, if he _is_ , better to find out now before Cas does something stupid like try to actually befriend the guy. So he finally decides to be honest.

"Saturday was actually pretty crazy," he says casually, keeping his eyes on the DVDs. "I don't know if you heard, but the Westboro Baptist Church held a protest this weekend?"

Dean snorts. "Is there a weekend when those whack jobs _don't_ find something to protest?"

Castiel smiles, glancing at him. This is going well.

"They do manage to have small protests around here almost constantly, since we're so close to their home base," he allows, "but this weekend they really rallied the troops because a gay couple was getting married. A friend and I went to the counterprotest."

"Dude, that's awesome!" Dean exclaims, grinning at Cas. But then his eyes widen and his smile drops as he apparently realizes how that might sound. "I mean, not _them_ , obviously. _That's_ pretty… that's kinda horrific, actually. Having your freaking wedding day ruined by those guys, that's… it's bullshit." Castiel watches him as he goes back to counting his money. Dean actually looks fairly disturbed by the thought. "But you guys, that's awesome. You let that couple know that not everyone hates them, even in freaking Kansas. That's… it's important, you know?"

The best reaction Cas had anticipated—had even come up with—was for Dean to continue down the "WBC are lunatics" road and say it was "awesome" that people were fighting against them. The idea that Dean would focus instead on the couple getting married, and how both the protest and the counterprotest would affect them, hadn't even occurred to him. Seeing this empathetic side of Dean… is not exactly doing anything to dampen Cas's crush.

"Yes, it is. I think it's very important. I'm glad we went." Cas can't even look at Dean as he replies, for fear that Dean will see the actual cartoon hearts in his eyes.

It is _such_ a good thing Dean is straight, so that Cas doesn't have to worry about this getting in the way of whatever he's trying to develop with Ro. That would get messy.

\---

When Dean gets home, he kinda wants to tell Angel that Cas/Hot Guy is also into gay rights protests. And a couple months ago, he totally would have. Hell, since Angel isn't online at the moment he'd probably send the guy a freaking email just to gush about it and wonder if maybe it means more than it probably does.

But he doesn't do that. Truth is, he hasn't even mentioned Cas in a while, and not because Cas is no longer hot or because Dean no longer has a bit of a crush on him. He kind of doesn't want Angel to think about the fact that Dean is attracted to someone else, because that might dissuade Angel from returning… _whatever_ these feelings are that Dean is developing for him.

And after this weekend, he really, _really_ doesn't want to put that in jeopardy. It's incredible enough that meeting Angel is now actually a real possibility that is on the table. Meeting, and maybe more? But yesterday, after Dean freaked out on the guy, Angel didn't get pissed or judge him or anything. Dean is still kind of getting used to that. Every day that Angel doesn't say "Look, this is fucking ridiculous, let me know when you get your head out of your ass" is still a bit of a surprise. Especially as they get closer, talking about the most intimate and embarrassing details of their past but with Dean unwilling to even say what he does for a living. And now this. He's not sure why Angel puts up with him, let alone why he would be so patient and understanding.

He's even pretty sure that Angel was flirting with him yesterday. Which isn't unheard of, but usually it's in the form of an overtly sexual overture from one of them to see if the other is in the mood for something more explicit. This was just thrown into their conversation, no ulterior motives as far as Dean could tell. It's the first time Dean has seriously entertained the idea that Angel might return his feelings. Sure, Angel is sweet and patient and kind to him, but a lot of that could just be out of pity. Dean's just assumed that Angel, who seems like a pretty confident guy, wouldn't bother romantically with a guy who still has one foot in the closet.

Yesterday's conversation makes him think that maybe, _maybe_ he's wrong. It's possible, in a best-case scenario, that Angel has been holding back any feelings he might have because there was no hope of it going anywhere, but now that they live in the same city wants to pursue something. But Dean has no idea if this is anywhere near the truth, and he doesn't want to get his hopes up.

On the other hand, he also doesn't want to squash anything that might be developing by gushing about some hot guy he barely knows. Yeah, Cas went to a protest, that's awesome. And who knows, maybe it even points to him being not entirely straight (or maybe not, maybe he's just not a homophobic asshole). But Dean still barely knows him. Even if Cas weren't associated with his job, and Dean could maybe have some fun with him, he wouldn't want to do that right now. Because he's becoming more and more sure that while his thing for Cas is just a little crush, there's at least a chance that he's legitimately falling in love with Angel. And that's way more important.


	5. Chapter 5

**AngelofThursday** : Ugh.

**RambleOn** : Bad day?

**AngelofThursday** : Shittiest of days.  
All three of the people I was planning to interview for this feature article backed out.  
if I can't find anyone else in the next week or so I'm going to have to tell the editor it's not happening  
which is NOT the way to show someone you're way more reliable than back when you were on drugs so aren't they glad they finally gave you another chance.

**RambleOn** : Shit.

**AngelofThursday** : Yeah.

**RambleOn** : Anything I can do?

**AngelofThursday** : I don't know, let me lay my head in your lap and cry while you stroke my hair and tell me I'm pretty?

**RambleOn** : You're welcome to lay your virtual head in my virtual lap while I stroke your virtual hair.  
And you're very pretty.

**AngelofThursday** : You have no idea what I look like.

**RambleOn** : I know you're pretty.

**AngelofThursday** : That doesn't even make sense.

**RambleOn** : Also, I know you're adorable when you're grumpy.  
I mean, look at you.

**AngelofThursday** : I will smite you.

**RambleOn** : Adorable.

**AngelofThursday** : *lays virtual head in your virtual lap and glares at you*

**RambleOn** : You're supposed to be crying.

**AngelofThursday** : That was before.  
wait  
did you just  
did you piss me off so I'd forget to be upset?

**RambleOn** : Doesn't make the adorable-when-grumpy thing less true.  
For the record.

**AngelofThursday** : Aside from the whole manipulating my feelings part, that's actually very sweet of you.

**RambleOn** : I'm a giver.  
I wish I could actually help.

**AngelofThursday** : It does "actually help."  
Just because we're talking online doesn't make it less real.  
You should know that by now.

**RambleOn** : Yeah.  
I know.  
I still wish I could do more.

**AngelofThursday** : I'm not your responsibility.  
But thank you.

**RambleOn** : Well, it's Sunday evening, you're probably not gonna get any new interviewees right at the moment.  
And I'm looking at the shit netflix is recommending to me  
So you've got a choice of being distracted either by  
Boogie Nights  
or  
Vanilla Ice Project

**AngelofThursday** : Why on earth would I choose to watch something called Vanilla Ice Project?

**RambleOn** : IDK, if you need something laughably bad.

**AngelofThursday** : Have you actually seen Boogie Nights?

**RambleOn** : No, but I have the vague idea that it's about a guy with a really big dick and porn.

**AngelofThursday** : Same here  
Let's watch that.

\---

Angel goes to bed early after they watch the movie, claiming that freaking out about the interviews wore him out. Once he's offline, Dean calls Charlie.

"I think I'm gonna go for it."

"Yes! You totally should go for it!" Charlie says. "I'm not sure what you're going for, but you definitely should."

"The guy online. Angel of Thursday?"

"Ohhhh!" Charlie sounds even more enthusiastic than before, which is impressive. "Dean, that's so cool! You're gonna meet up in person?"

"Yeah. I mean, see if he wants to." Dean probably shouldn't be this nervous. Should he? "You think he'll want to?"

"Duh! You've been talking for what, like six months now?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"And he told you he lives in town over a month ago, right?"

"I think?"

"And he hasn't, like, avoided you since then or anything. He didn't freak out and run away when he found out you live in Wichita."

"Of course not," Dean says, but then he realizes that yeah, if Angel really didn't want to meet in person he probably would have done that. "I mean, he even said before that he'd really like to get together whenever I'm ready for it."

"So why would there be a problem?"

"Well, I kinda—you know…"

"Like the guy? Like, _like_ -like him? And you're less worried he won't want to meet you than that you'll meet and he won't like-like you back?"

"Way to make me sound like a sixth grader, Charlie," Dean grumbles.

"You know what I mean. I _know_ you're interested in more than just friendship with this guy, Dean."

"Yeah," he sighs, "and I'm like 75% sure he wants that, too."

"I mean, obviously you can't know for sure until you try it, but those sound like good odds to me!"

"I guess…" Dean pauses, playing with the cover of a car magazine sitting on the coffee table. "The thing that's really freaking me out is, okay, let's say we both want to try dating or whatever. And then in a couple months it crashes and burns and we have this really awful breakup. He could, like, out me at work or something."

"Dude," Charlie says emphatically, "you know this guy pretty well, right? If you think there's a good chance that he's the type of person who would do that _at all_ , under any circumstances that don't involve you, like, stabbing his dog or something, then you do not need him in your life to begin with, okay? If you honestly think he'd do that, even in a nasty breakup, you shouldn't even be friends with him."

Charlie's vehemence startles Dean out of his anxious what-ifs. Because no, no of _course_ Angel isn't the type of person who'd do that. He's given Dean absolutely no reason to think that he has a vindictive bone in his body, and he clearly understands and respects Dean's worries about his job.

"You're right," he finally says, "and he wouldn't. I'd bet on that before I'd bet on his feelings for me. The guy's… _good_ , y'know? Just super understanding and patient and—"

"A real angel?" Charlie teases.

"You clearly haven't read his porn," Dean shoots back.

"TMI, dude. I'm _glad_ I don't ship Neallen now, because I would be seriously squicked out to read smut written by your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"But he will be soon!"

"Not for sure, come on—"

"What made you decide, anyhow?" She interrupts before he can get back on a self-doubt tangent.

"It's dumb," he mumbles. "He had a shitty day, and I managed to cheer him up some, but I just wished, y'know. I could do more. If I could see him in person—"

"I do _not_ need to hear how you would cheer him up in person. Yet again, TMI."

"Not like that, pervert. I mean, okay, maybe like that, too, but just like… even giving the guy a hug. Or just hanging out and getting takeout together or whatever."

"Awwwww! You just wanna cuddle!" Charlie squeals. "I bet you two will be so adorable together!"

"I don't even know what he looks like," Dean mutters, previous protestations he may have directed at Angel be damned.

"Doesn't matter! So adorable! And come on, you're so far gone, he'd have to be truly nasty-looking for you to find him totally unattractive. Like, 500-pound neckbeard covered in Cheeto stains who doesn't bathe nasty."

"Ew. Thanks for _that_ image. Glad I called you."

"You love me."

"Yeah. I do. So you think this is a good idea?"

"I _know_ this is a good idea. You're cool with being friends if things don't click romantically, right?"

"Yeah, totally. I mean, I guess I'd be a little disappointed, but we were friends first."

"Then go get 'im, tiger!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll let you know how it goes."

"You better!"

They say their goodbyes and hang up. It takes a good hour and a half for Dean to write an email, and another hour before he sends it. By the time he's done, it's past his bedtime, and his stomach is tied in knots.

\---

Monday morning starts just like every other Monday morning for the past few months—Cas going for a run, showering, then eating breakfast in front of the computer before he has to head out to the library. He's already anxious about his article again—Ro did a good job of distracting him last night, but today he has to actually deal with finding new interviews. He can probably get away with only two, but he's got to get those.

Speaking of Ro, he notices a new email over in his AngelofThursday account. He clicks over and reads it as he eats his yogurt.

_Hey Angel,_

_So, tonight got me thinking. I'm glad I managed to cheer you up a little, but it sucks that I couldn't do it in person when you're probably just a few miles from me. You've been super patient with me and all my stupid issues, which honestly I think is exactly_ why _I trust you enough to say that I'd like to meet in person. If you're still interested._

_And, look, I'm gonna go ahead and put all my cards on the table here. I want to stay friends with you no matter what, I want to make that clear, okay? You're one of my closest friends now and I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that. But the truth is, I'd be open to more than friendship, if that's something you're interested in. I mean, obviously, we can't necessarily plan that, right? Who knows if we'd have that kind of chemistry face-to-face._

_You know I have trouble trusting myself when it comes to this kind of thing. I felt like such an idiot after the whole thing with my ex, sometimes I have trouble believing I'll ever really be sure about how I feel about anyone. But whatever it is that I feel for you, it's different from anything I've ever felt for anyone else. And I totally understand if you're not willing to take a chance on that because of my history, or if you're just not interested. But if you are, maybe we can see where that goes._

_And no matter what, I'd much rather be able to watch a movie with you in person next time. So I hope the previous two paragraphs didn't freak you out, because I'm being completely honest about wanting to be friends. It's not some kind of consolation prize that I'd be resentful about or something._

_So I guess, if you wanna hang out sometime, text me or something? 316-555-2659_

_-Dean_

_aka RambleOn_

The first paragraph puts a big grin on Cas's face. He'd actually expected to have to wait a lot longer to meet Ro in person. He's a bit dismayed that Ro calls his issues "stupid" when Cas has done his best to let him know that they're totally understandable, but not particularly surprised.

The next two paragraphs are more than he'd dared to hope for, at least not right off the bat. He thought maybe, if Ro were eventually comfortable with meeting, they'd see if there was a physical attraction first and go from there. Act as if he's not already in love with the guy. But god, now. Now he thinks that, unless Ro is spectacularly unattractive, he'll have a hard time not climbing into the man's lap as soon as they meet. Showering him with affection, sweet words and kisses everywhere.

Then he gets to the end, and just about forgets to breathe.

No. No, that's—it's incredibly unlikely, isn't it? Even more unlikely than the two of them living in the same city. Near impossible, right?

He glances at the time—he has less than ten minutes before he has to leave for the library. Damn it, of course. He runs back over everything he knows about Ro and Dean in his head, looking for confirmation or contradiction of his theory.

Ro is closeted because he works with children. In a job he needed a master's degree for. Dean is a children's librarian.

Ro dated women exclusively most of his life until his last girlfriend several years ago, whom he refers to as L. Dean's last girlfriend, _Lisa_ , was also several years ago. He claims to have slept with women since, but if he were closeted he _would_ claim that to keep up appearances, wouldn't he? Especially a guy who looks like he does ; no one would believe he's not getting offers.

They both love Star Wars and Indiana Jones, but that's not exactly rare.

They're both around 30 and named Dean. Cas isn't sure he knows anyone else his age named Dean, but it can't be _that_ uncommon a name, can it? He does a quick search and discovers that in 1985 there were 801 babies named Dean in  the U.S., exactly as many as were named Lorenzo. If both men had been named Lorenzo, that would pretty much clench it, right? Hell, there were more men his age named Melvin or Byron or Clifford than Dean, apparently.

If they are the same person, Cas certainly doesn't want to confront him in his place of work, make him feel cornered or exposed. Being outed at work is Ro's greatest fear. And if they're not the same person, Cas doesn't want to creep Dean out.

But if they are the same person, they'll all find out soon enough, and Cas can't really pretend like he didn't suspect a thing, right? It would be dishonest to just pretend like he has no clue while he's there today.

He finally has an idea and runs to change his shirt.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean's stomach is fluttering all morning. He sent the email long after Angel went to bed, so he knows that the guy probably hasn't even seen it yet before Dean leaves for work. So no reply yet doesn't mean anything. Right? Of course.

He's so preoccupied with worries about Angel that he doesn't hear Cas come in and greet the other librarians as he walks past their desks. He doesn't even think about Cas until he goes out to count the money as usual, and Cas is there, as usual, casing DVDs. Even from the back, Dean can see he's wearing one of his tight t-shirts that shows off his biceps, along with the jeans Dean loves. Cas throws him a soft smile, and suddenly Dean's brain is short-circuiting. _Shit. Hot guy._ _Hot guy is hot_ _. Asked out other guy. Can't with hot guy._ Dean manages to return the smile, although he knows that his probably looks tense and forced.

"Hey Cas," he manages as he goes about his business. He probably even sounds sort of casual, maybe kind of. "Have a good weekend?"

"Yesterday was complete shit, actually," Cas replies, sounding surprisingly cheerful, "but last night a friend helped cheer me up. I think today is going to be a lot better. I have a good feeling about today."

Luckily, Cas's good mood is catching, so Dean manages to relax.

"Oh yeah?" He replies, looking over at Cas with a teasing smile. "So is this good feeling just for you, or is everyone else gonna have a good day today, too?"

"I don't know," Cas says. He turns toward Dean and leans an elbow on the counter. "I guess we'll see."

Dean's about to look away when he notices Cas's t-shirt.

"Dude, is that a _Devil Boys_ shirt? I love that show!"

The smile that spreads across Cas's face takes Dean by surprise. It's not just flirtatious, it's downright _predatory_. Dean turns back to his work, flustered and a little aroused. _Shit, of course as soon as I try to get serious with one guy, the other one decides to actually show interest. Fuck my life._

But as Cas turns back to his DVDs, his voice is still neutrally cheerful. Maybe Dean imagined the look, maybe he's just seeing what he wants to see.

"Yes, it's been one of my favorites for a couple of years now. Do you watch regularly?"

"Duh, of course." Dean relaxes again. This is just more friendly banter about media consumption, this is what they do. "It's pretty much my favorite, too, never miss it."

"So what do you think of this season so far?"

"Eh." Dean has this little rant practically memorized; he's complained about it to Charlie, Angel, whoever will listen. "So last season, I was pretty pissed that they downplayed the angel storyline, y'know? I thought the angels were the best addition to the show's mythology in years, and then it's like they forgot they even existed unless it was convenient. So I'm glad that they're kinda reversing course on that, but I hope they push it a little further."

"I agree completely," Cas replies. "Although I might be biased, of course."

"Why biased?"

Cas stops casing the DVDs for a moment and gives Dean a thoughtful look.

"Do you know my name?

Dean pauses and looks over, confused. "Uh… Cas?"

"But do you know what Cas is short for?"

Dean opens his mouth, but then stops, blinking. "I guess I don't, wow. I guess it sounds like it could just be a name by itself. So what's it short for?"

"Castiel."

Dean grins. "Dude, that's an awesome name. Castiel? I love it! So… why are we talking about your name?"

"Well, I say I'm biased toward the angels," Castiel explains, looking down at a movie on the counter and running a finger along its edge, "because I'm named for one. Castiel is the name of an angel."

He glances up at Dean and looks almost nervous, which seems odd. Does he think Dean is going to be… what, angry or something? Because he was named after an angel?

A little voice in the back of Dean's head is starting to put some pieces together, but it comes to the slow realization that they're talking about angels an _awful_ lot just a moment too late as Cas continues—

"Specifically," he says slowly, deliberately, "in angel mythology, Castiel is the angel of Thursday."

Every gear in Dean's brain grinds to a violent halt, and he's left staring at the pen he just picked up. To write… something. Something that doesn't matter anymore, because Cas _knows_. He _knows_ all of Dean's _secrets_ and he's going to… he's going to blackmail Dean, or get him fired, or _something_ , and jesus _fucking christ_ _mother fucker_ —

Dean jumps when he feels a hand on his arm. He glances over at Castiel, eyes wide, barely breathing. Thank god, there's nobody else around, but someone could come out of the back any second and they would _know_ , they would know just by _looking_ at Dean because now he looks _guilty_ and—

"Please don't panic," Cas murmurs. "It's just me. I would never hurt you."

_It's just me_.

Dean finally registers the look in Cas's eyes—not disgust, or malice, or victory, or whatever Dean expected if the man were there to destroy him. Instead there's kindness, sadness, and hope.

_It's just me._

Dean's poor, battered brain _finally_ gets on track and realizes. Cas isn't someone who is speaking in code to scare Dean, to let him know he knows Dean's secrets and is going to use them against him. Cas—Castiel—is actually. He _is_ AngelofThursday, and he was trying to let Dean know without saying anything that the other librarians would understand.

Okay. That's okay. That's good. Dean can work with that.

He finally starts breathing again, Cas's hand still a firm presence on his bicep. He nods, and feels a little squeeze of acknowledgement. He's okay now. He's—shit, he's a lot more than okay, isn't he?

This isn't just "okay," this is kind of a minor fucking miracle.

He looks over again, and this time when their eyes meet the reality of the situation washes over him in a tidal wave.

The hot guy he has a crush on, the absolutely _beautiful_ man whom he looks forward to laughing with every Monday, is the same man who knows all his secrets and never judges him for any of them. This is the man he's half in love with.

_Scratch that_ , he thinks, taking in the electricity flowing between them, intense and undeniable, like nothing he's experienced before; _completely in love with_.

He suddenly realizes that if anyone walks by, it'll be pretty damn obvious what's going on, seeing as how they're gazing into each other's eyes like they're posing for a Nicholas Sparks cover. Stupid smiles on both of their faces. Hell, they should get some kind of medal for the fact that they haven't started making out yet.

So Dean manages to pull away and turn back to the money he's going to have to recount because _who the fuck knows_ what number he arrived at a few minutes ago. A few minutes or several years, he's not sure which. He valiantly does not whine when Cas's hand leaves his arm and goes back to the DVDs.

Cas clears his throat. "You know," he says, keeping his voice down although there's no one around at the moment and the conversation right now is perfectly innocent, "Castiel is a unique name, but Dean is actually much less common than I thought. I… had reason to look it up this morning, and did you know that for men our age, it's about as popular as the name Lorenzo?"

Dean snorts. "Lorenzo?"

"Or Melvin. Or Clifford." They're both giggling by now.

He had reason to look it up this morning. He got Dean's email, saw the name, and tried to figure out if it was the same Dean. So it's not like he's known all along or anything.

Dean glances around before murmuring, "So you didn't know?"

"Are you kidding me?" Castiel's whisper is so soft he's practically mouthing the words, his eyes wide and incredulous. "Do you really think I could've kept quiet?"

It's a little weird, trying to reconcile two people in his head into one—but not as hard as he would have expected. There are no contradictions to sort out; their personalities are actually so similar that Dean feels kind of stupid for not noticing before.

Dean tries, he tries _really hard_ , to concentrate on the money he's recounting _again_. He actually starts counting out loud, which just makes Castiel laugh, which makes Dean laugh. He's giddy, and he's pretty sure he's not the only one. Ellen manages to walk by just as they're both breaking down.

"The hell's so funny out here?" She asks good-naturedly.

Dean blushes, but he's laughing hard enough by now that he's pretty sure it just looks like his face is red from it.

"Um," Cas clears his throat and holds up the movie in front of him. "Spaceballs. It's hilarious. Have you seen it?"

Ellen raises an eyebrow and looks from the movie to the two of them.

"No, I guess I'll have to put that one on my To Watch list." She mercifully moves on.

It reminds him of high school, the time Charlie hacked into the school district's servers and added ugly animated gifs (the kind you found on Geocities pages in 2001, not the kind you post on Tumblr today) to all the high school's webpages. Their Biology teacher was also half the IT department, so the two of them got to sit in the back of the classroom and try not to laugh when the principal ran in in a panic and tried to get Mr. Kelly to explain what had happened and whether there was a virus and should they shut down all the school's computers so they don't get infected?

Dean manages to keep it together for about two seconds.

"Moichandising, moichandising," he mutters as he starts his counting over _again_.

"Dean, there's something you should know about us," Cas says, barely keeping a straight face.

"Yeah, what's that?" Dean has to bite his lip, but as soon as Cas starts the next line he's lost it again.

"I am your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate."

Cas _barely_ makes it through the line before he's giggling again. By that point, Dean is leaning over the counter, burying his face in his hands, and he has _no fucking idea_ how he's going to make it through an entire work day without kissing this man.

"I'm surrounded by assholes," he chokes out.

Ellen glides back by the counter, casually plucking the DVD out of Cas's hands.

"Don't make me separate the two of you," she says sternly, but she's smiling. Dean's pretty sure they just look like two idiots, rather than two idiots in love, but he knows he'd better not let it go any further.

"Yes, Dean," Cas says, somehow managing to frown, "I have work to do."

"You're a volunteer, you dick!" Dean exclaims, pushing his shoulder, " _I'm_ the one with _work_ to do, thank you very much."

"I have very important volunteering to attend to," Cas says solemnly, and starts casing DVDs at top speed.

"I am taking my fucking money and going _over there_ where there are no _horrible people trying to distract me_ ," Dean hisses, his laughter finally fading as he scoops up the money and moves to the other end of the counter.

He _finally_ gets his simple task completed, and is somewhat recovered from the whole thing by the time he's done. Cas is almost done casing the DVDs, which means he'll go shelve them next, which means it's pretty much Dean's last chance to talk to him without following him around the library like a puppy dog. So he leans on the counter, letting their shoulders brush a little.

"So you gonna have to find new people to interview today?"

Cas sighs. "Yes. That's basically what I'll be doing the rest of the day once I leave here. Luckily, one of the people who cancelled was kind enough to give me another lead, and he says he already talked to her and she said she was willing, so hopefully at least that will pan out."

"I know there's probably not, but seriously, let me know if there's anything I can do to help?"

Cas narrows his eyes, looking thoughtfully at the stack of DVDs. Then he gets this adorable little half-smile on his face as he says, "Well, if there were, it definitely would not involve the Vanilla Ice Project."

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes, but he gets the message. Unfortunately, Ellen and Hannah are both within earshot, so he puts on his best bro voice.

"Dude, you should totally come over sometime, we can get some takeout, marathon the show." He whacks at Cas's chest with the back of his hand, indicating the _Devil Boys_ shirt. God, he feels like he should be throwing in a "no homo" just for good measure. It'd be depressing if he weren't still on a huge fucking high.

Cas smirks, pulls his phone out of his pocket to hand it to Dean. "We should do that. I'll text you."

Dean fiddles with the phone, only to find his phone number already there. Under "Laren."

"You're such an asshole," he mutters, shoving the phone back at its owner after sending himself a quick text so he has Cas's number. "Go shelve the god damn DVDs, douchebag."

Cas just gives him an adorable smile, nose wrinkling up a little, before dumping a stack of DVDs onto his cart. Dean pushes past him a little harder than really necessary (because it's an excuse to touch him) and heads back to his desk to finish his morning duties.

A few minutes later, Ellen comes by and leans on his desk.

"Well, I think I know why you can't get a girlfriend," she says. Her tone is joking, sarcastic, but Dean's heart rate skyrockets. Were they really that obvious?

He gives her a short glare, hardly more than a glance, hiding all his panic under faux annoyance. "And why's that?"

"Well, if that's how you make friends, I'd hate to hear what you say to a girl you're flirting with."

Dean just raises an eyebrow, suppressing the urge to sigh in relief.

"I'm not an idiot, Ellen. Buddies can get away with insulting each other. He knows I don't mean it. I wouldn't say that shit if I were trying to flirt with a girl." Technically, none of these statements is a lie, except maybe the first one.

"You know I'm kidding, don't go gettin' all defensive on me, boy." She smacks him on the shoulder, which he probably deserves.

"I know, I know. I just—I don't have a girlfriend because I don't _want_ a girlfriend, okay? Can everyone just lay off me about it for five minutes?" This is at least the third time in the past few  weeks that his lack of a love life has been conversation fodder at work. He's starting to get a little worried that eventually they'll figure out why he really doesn't have a girlfriend.

"Oh fine, spoilsport. I am glad you're making friends, though. You don't have enough of those, either."

Dean squints up at her. "You are having some real empty nest problems since Jo left for KU, aren't you?"

She glares at him, but finally leaves him alone.

Dean resists the urge to find every little excuse possible to go out where he can stare at Cas, because he really shouldn't be staring at Cas. When he sees Cas going to fill out his volunteer timesheet, though, he does jump up from his desk.

"Hey, I'll walk you out," he manages to say casually. This isn't suspicious, because someone has to walk the volunteers out to make sure the door locks behind them.

As they leave the offices, he manages to murmur, "Let's go out the back," when he's pretty sure no one can hear him.

The back door is down a little hall and around a corner, which means that it can't be seen from the rest of the library. And since it's the back, twenty feet from an alley, and the library doesn't open for another half hour, it's very unlikely that any patrons will be nearby.

They're both grinning, glancing at each other as they go down the hall. Once they turn the corner, they make it about two more steps before Dean pulls Cas into a tight hug, burying his face in Cas's neck. Cas holds him back just as tightly, and nothing has ever felt so good in his life.

"Shouldn't do this every week," he whispers.

"We won't have to," Cas replies softly, "we can do it whenever we want when we're not here."

Dean tries not to laugh, but he's feeling giddy again. He pulls back enough to look at Cas, whose smile is as big as his own. _Gorgeous_ , he thinks, _so fucking gorgeous. I want to see this face every day_.

He knows they shouldn't linger much longer, but nobody will notice an extra thirty seconds. He leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Cas's lips. Cas is clearly surprised by his boldness, but kisses back and tightens his fingers on Dean's shoulders. When they break the kiss, Dean realizes he's going to have to let go, and that's the worst thing imaginable.

"Can I see you tonight?" Cas whispers as he moves himself out of Dean's embrace.

"Hell yes," Dean replies as he opens the door and holds it for Cas. "I'll call you on my lunch break, ok?"

Cas smiles. "I look forward to it."

"Good luck with the interviews," Dean says at full volume as Cas leaves.

"Thanks," Cas replies. "I'll see you later, Dean." The smile he gives Dean before he walks away is radiant, but also feels like something private, just for them.

Dean makes sure the door locks (because that's why he's there, after all), then takes a minute to gather himself before he heads back to the front.

This is not at all what he was expecting when he walked in today. This is not at all what he was expecting when he sent that email last night, or when he first sent AngelofThursday a message on Tumblr months ago. Somehow, he's stumbled upon the best possible outcome of all of those things, and he just has to not fuck it up.

 

By lunch, of course, he's begun to seriously question his ability to not fuck it up.

He made it through Story Hour, and the usual flirtations from moms both single and not-so-single. He spent an hour reshelving a crapload of picture books left in piles on the tables, knowing that by close there will be another crapload waiting. He helped a dozen or so patrons find what they were looking for, including one woman who could only remember that the cover of the book was blue, because _it's always fucking blue, isn't it?_ He eventually coaxed out of her that there was "a planet or like maybe a meteor or something" on the cover as well, and managed to make her happy with a copy of _The Little Prince_ because Dean is a _fucking boss_ , that's how.

And while doing all of that, there was one little person in the back of his head who was busily spinning out fantasies of he and Cas together, doing all sorts of _very very clean_ things because the last thing he needs at work is any sort of physical reaction. Unfortunately, there was another little person back there who was pretty damn convinced that this was all too good to be true. That little guy pointed out, repeatedly, that Dean really has no idea what Cas even wants out of all this, or if he feels at all the way that Dean does. Sure, they kissed, but that doesn't necessarily mean much. _Dean_ initiated the kiss, so maybe Cas wasn't even all that into it.

That guy was pretty annoying, but at least even he helped to keep the the third guy beaten down. That one sounded suspiciously like John Winchester, and said nothing at all worth listening to. Dean's at least proud of himself for not listening to that guy, even if he's still there. He might always be there, but he doesn't have to have any power.

At lunchtime, he heads out to the Impala and drives to the first fast food place he comes to. As soon as he's pulled into a parking space at Burger King, he calls Cas before his nerves can get the better of him.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean's nerves melt at the warmth in Cas's voice.

"Hey, Cas."

"I'm glad you called."

"How's your work going?"

Cas sighs. "I've emailed two people and left one voice mail. I can't really do much but wait for them to get back to me."

"Wow, but that's great that you at least came up with three new possibilities."

"Yes, it seems that I am _possibly_ not as screwed as I previously assumed."

"Awesome. So, uh… you wanna come over tonight?"

"Get takeout, marathon the show?" Cas teases. "I'm surprised you didn't invite me over to watch the game and have a brewski."

"Shut up. Not that takeout and TV are off the table, here. And I do have beer." His brow furrows, though he's still smiling. "I honestly have no idea if there are any games on tonight. It's football season, right? Isn't that fall?"

"And these people all buy that you're straight?"

"Hey, that's not cool man, stereotypes!"

Cas just laughs.

"We can figure out what to do later," Dean says with a shrug. He bites his lip before continuing. "Actually, I, uh. I kinda wanted to talk to you, make sure we're on the same page about this stuff."

"The page that I am on," Cas replies, his voice almost a purr that is _doing things_ to Dean that he will have to _fix_ before he goes back to work, "looks an awful lot like it could come out of one of my novels. Is that acceptable?"

"Yeah," Dean says, flustered and fumbling a bit. "Yeah, that sounds like a great page to be on. That sounds like a freakin' awesome page. But, um." He grits his teeth and reminds himself that he _needs_ to say this. "Look, this is pretty much the _last_ thing I want to say right now, anything that might… keep us off of that page. But, here's the thing, Cas. I can tell you right now, that I want more than that. And if you don't, that's cool, but we should probably call this whole thing off right now. Because I know we've done the stuff online and all, but I don't think I can do this just… casually, with you. Which sounds stupid, but. I dunno, it's the truth, man."

The pause after he's done stretches out, and he can hear his heart hammering in the quiet.

"Dean," Cas finally says, and his voice is so full of sadness and regret that Dean's stomach plummets immediately. "I wanted to wait until I could say this face-to-face, but you obviously need to hear it now: I love you." Dean's mouth drops open. He's startled… _stunned_ by the depth of emotion in Cas's voice. "I am entirely and utterly in love with you. What I want is exactly as much of yourself and your life as you're willing to share with me, for as long as you'll have me."

Dean isn't even entirely sure he's breathing, but he hears a small "oh" fall out of his mouth, so he probably is. He feels a little stupid. Somehow he hadn't even seriously entertained the possibility that Cas feels exactly the same way he does. He'd been pretty sure that Cas would want more than just sex, though obviously not sure enough that he didn't need to check. And he'd certainly _hoped_ that Cas felt something that he'd categorize as love. But to hear it laid out like that, that he's as all-in here as Dean is, no hesitation, no qualifications… It takes a minute for Dean to get past the lump in his throat to say anything else.

"You're kind of amazing, you know that?" He finally says softly, completely aware that he sounds like he's about to cry and not caring.

"No," Cas says simply, "but I think, if we both keep believing that about each other, even if we can't believe it about ourselves, maybe we've got something really good here."

"I think maybe we do, angel," Dean says, finally recovered enough to flirt a little. "Fuck, do you know how hard it's gonna be to not just call in sick for the rest of the day?"

"Blah blah don't be irresponsible blah blah blah the children would be so disappointed something something more words to convince you not to do that because it would be _wrong_ of me to encourage that sort of behavior no matter how much I want to see you naked," Castiel replies in a flat voice.

"Cas, shut up, I _can't_. You are not helping," Dean says firmly, but he's smiling. "Are all angels dicks, or just the ones in charge of days of the week?"

"You try being in charge of fucking Thursday. Nobody cares about Thursday. The angel of Saturday, now he's got a nice gig." There's a clicking sound on the line. "Hang on—oh, crap, one of the interview people is calling me back. Text me your address and a time?"

"You bet. Good luck!"

"Thanks. I'll see you later," Cas says before disconnecting.

Dean has just enough time left on his lunch to actually go inside and grab a burger. While he eats, he stares at his phone as though it actually contains Castiel.

He's in love. Crazy, head-over-heels in love, like in a movie, something so intense and clear and _right_ that he honestly wasn't sure he believed people experienced it in real life. But here he is, and Cas feels the same way, and they're going to be _together_ , and he doesn't want to get ahead of himself but he kind of thinks it might be a long-term kind of deal, and from what Cas said he thinks _he_ might think so, too.

He knows this is going to mean some changes. He can't stay as far in the closet as he is if he has a boyfriend. He can't hide Cas from the whole world and he doesn't want to. That whole mess is fucking terrifying, but Cas has been so patient and understanding about it so far, he knows they can talk about it and figure it out, take it one step at a time. Honestly, what he's feeling is a little terrifying, too, but it's a good kind of terrifying. The exhilarating kind, like at the top of the big first hill on a roller coaster.

As he throws his trash away and heads back out to the car to get back to work, it hits him that his life is changing today. Since Lisa left, he's sort of been floating along on this slow track of figuring himself out. It's not that nothing's changed—hell, it's sort of been constant change, in a way. But there hasn't been a real, major, identifiable _shift_ since then. And that's today, that's now.

And he's so ready for that.


	7. Chapter 7

Just before six, Cas puts his work away. He's managed to line up two new interviews, which should be the bare minimum he needs to get this article written by his deadline. It may not be his most in-depth work, but it should be publishable and on time, which is better than he managed to deliver the last time he'd worked with this editor.

Dean texted him this afternoon with an address, suggesting he come by at 6:30. It should take about fifteen to twenty minutes to drive there, so he has just a little while to get ready.

Luckily, since he'd had to go to the library this morning, he's already in actual clothing and didn't just spend the day working in sweatpants. He wonders if he should put on something nicer, but kind of likes the idea of wearing his _Devil Boys_ t-shirt for this.

As he's fixing his hair, he finally starts to get nervous. Dean is still in the closet, and likely to remain that way for the foreseeable future. And he hadn't exactly said "I love you" back when they were on the phone. He said he didn't want this to be casual, but that doesn't mean he's thinking of the type of committed relationship Cas wants. The last time Dean thought he was in love, it was with a woman, and he'd nearly married her before figuring out that what he was feeling was platonic. He'd even mentioned his confusion in his email, and while he'd claimed that he was confident that what he feels for Cas is different, that doesn't mean he's ready to jump into something as serious as what Cas wants.

_He kissed me_ , Cas reminds himself. _He_ _kissed_ _me_ _; he's the one who brought up the idea of being more than friends in the first place, and he outright said he wants more than casual sex_. So maybe he's not imagining a future together like Cas is quite yet, but that doesn't mean they've got no future together. They've got a much stronger foundation than most people start a relationship with, and it's probably _better_ if they don't rush into things. Even if Cas has never felt this way about anyone.

He makes an executive decision to throw some clothes and his laptop into a backpack. He'll leave it in the car, maybe, when he gets there, so he doesn't come off as pushy or overconfident. But he'd definitely rather have it than not.

At 6:28 he pulls up in front of a townhome on one end of a row of them, in a fairly new-looking suburban development. He knows he has the right place, because Dean's Impala is parked in the driveway. Dean has talked about the car several times online, but has never mentioned it to Cas at the library. Cas realizes that he's never noticed it there, either—because he walks to the library, and comes in through the front entrance, while the parking lot is in the back. If he'd ever randomly decided to go in or out through the back before Dean led him there today for privacy, he might have put two and two together a lot sooner.

He pulls his thoughts away from the car and back to the house, where _Dean is waiting right now_. The thought is enough to get him out of his own car and walking down the driveway.

Dean opens the door almost before Cas has finished ringing the doorbell.

"You're here," Dean breathes, eyes wide. Maybe Cas should be offended that Dean sounds so disbelieving—did he really not think Cas would show?—but the truth is, he can't believe he's here, either. So instead, he feels what is probably a ridiculous grin spreading across his face.

"I'm here."

Before he has time to say anything else, Dean grabs his hand and pulls him inside, the door clicking shut behind him. But he barely registers the sound, because Dean's arms are already around him and his hands are sliding into Dean's hair, and this time when they kiss they have no need for the restraint they showed at the library.

Castiel lets himself get lost in kissing Dean for a few blissful minutes. He's always liked whatever aftershave or cologne Dean wears, having to resist the urge to lean into it sometimes standing next to him at the library. Now he breathes in the clean, woodsy scent as he lets his hands explore this body he's longed to touch.

Eventually, Dean pulls back a little.

"I should, uh. I was about to put a lasagna in the oven. I should go do that if we're ever gonna eat."

Cas nods and lets him go, following him into the kitchen and finally getting a good look at the living room as they go. The fact that it's all immaculately clean doesn't surprise him, somehow—Dean has never really said anything directly about what kind of house he keeps, but he has definitely said things that made Castiel suspect he was a bit of a neat freak. Cas is definitely not, but he can pick up after himself well enough to not get on such a person's bad side.

Once the food is in, Dean turns back to him, his face lighting up as soon as they make eye contact.

"You're still here!" Dean says, laughing. "I'm still half-convinced that I'm in bed with the flu and today's been one long fever-dream. It's just the kind of thing my brain would do, too—I've been worrying about how bad I'm falling for you online, but how I also have the hots for you at the library. And kinda hoping that the you online would forget I ever told you about the you at the library, because I wouldn't want you to think I like you better than you." Dean pauses, grimacing. "Please tell me this is making sense, and you're not like, _just_ the hot guy at the library standing there wondering what the hell I'm talking about some online dude for."

Cas pulls out his phone, grinning. "I'm fairly certain what you just said is utter nonsense, yet I know exactly what you're talking about. But in case you'll feel better with definite confirmation…" He opens up his Tumblr app and makes a post. "Check your notifications."

Dean raises an eyebrow and pulls his own phone out, laughing when he sees Cas's post.

_Image: screencap of a tumblr post by user angel-of-thursday85_  
_@ramble-on-67 is cute when he's nervous_

"I'm not _nervous_ ," he says, shooting Cas a look. "I mean, okay, a little, but that's not really why I'm babbling like an idiot." He reaches out, and Cas lets himself be drawn back into his arms. "I'm just excited. I don't know what we should do first, y'know? I mean, don't get me wrong, have sex is pretty damn high on the list, but there's also so much I wanna talk to you about, about fandom stuff and our writing, our day-to-day lives, our work—I can just _talk to you_ about all that stuff now, _all_ of it. And there's so much stuff I still don't know about you. And I just wanna hold you and watch _Devil Boys_ with you and watch bad movies with you and wake up next to you and I'm just… I'm kinda overwhelmed here."

The play of emotions through Dean's eyes as he talks is fascinating. Cas could stand there for an hour, just watching as the tiniest muscle twitch conveys excitement, joy, nerves, bewilderment, disbelief.

"I want all of that, too," Cas reassures him, "and we'll get to all of it. For now, it looks like our dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, so let's focus on what to do with that time."

They wind up going with showing Cas around the rest of Dean's home and then making out for a little while, until the timer on the oven goes off.

Dinner is wonderful. The food is delicious and the conversation flows easily. Cas talks about the person he managed to interview on the phone that day, they talk through a plot problem Dean is having in his current fic and manage to work out a few options. Cas hadn't _really_ been worried that it would be awkward, their trying to carry on a conversation offline, but even he's a little surprised at how naturally their online chemistry transfers over. And when Dean tells him all about the moms who were flirting with him at storytime, Cas is suffused with warmth as it hits him how much Dean really, fully trusts him.

As Dean loads the last few dishes into the dishwasher, Cas wraps his arms around him from behind and kisses the nape of his neck. The way Dean melts back into him is incredibly gratifying.

"I was thinking," he says into Dean's hair. "Our first night together, we should really watch one episode of the show. I have too many other ideas—" He scrapes his teeth along the back of Dean's neck and appreciates the shiver that runs down Dean's back. "—to fit in a full marathon, but one episode."

Dean turns in his arms and presses a firm kiss to his mouth.

"One episode," Dean agrees with a smirk. "Then there is no force on earth that can stop me from getting you naked."

They sift through Dean's Devil Boys DVD collection, which to Cas's surprise is not complete. ("What are you talking about, Cas, there was no season seven. Season seven never happened.") It takes a while to pick an episode, but it's a fun process mostly composed of one of them suggesting a Neallen-heavy episode, the other commenting on some part of the episode they like, them both getting distracted talking about it instead of watching it, rinse, repeat. With the occasional digression into a fic that the episode makes one or the other of them think of.

But they do eventually pick one, and watch it curled together on Dean's couch, sneaking glances and kisses, one of which Cas cuts off because it's getting to a good part.

Almost as soon as the episode is over, they're making out again. They start making their way to Dean's bedroom, kissing the entire way. They briefly try to remove clothing _and_ keep making out _and_ keep moving toward Dean's bedroom, but this does not go well. They give up the undressing in favor of the kissing, but most of the rest of the way to the bed they wind up laughing too much to keep that up.

Once they're actually lying on the bed, they're not laughing anymore. Their kissing and groping gets more heated quickly, and clothes are shed in earnest. Cas thinks briefly about how he can't wait to get into something kinkier with Dean, but tonight they're both too eager to get their hands on each other. He makes a mental note to figure out exactly what he wants to try first before Dean gets home from work tomorrow.

Cas sits up once they're naked and looks down at Dean, taking in every inch of his tan, toned body. He's imagined what that body must look like under Dean's buttoned work shirts and khakis so many times, never thinking he'd actually find out. When he looks up, Dean is staring at him.

"I hope this isn't a weird compliment," Dean says with a sheepish half-smile, "but your profile is fucking incredible." He reaches out a hand and turns Cas's face away to look at it sidelong again. "I mean, obviously you're gorgeous from any angle, but you have no idea how hard it is for me not to just stand there and stare when you're looking down at the DVDs next to me. Like, how is your nose even real, and what are the odds of it getting paired up with a jawline like that?"

"You're one to talk about jawlines," Cas replies, ducking down to kiss and nose at Dean's jaw. "And as for how things are real, I'm pretty sure the golden ratio was invented by a time traveler who saw you then went back and created it so that one day it could describe your face. Honestly, why are you a librarian when you could be rich as an underwear model?"

Dean laughs, but it cuts off into a gasp and then a moan when Cas bites down on his neck. One advantage to starting their relationship online is that even though this is their first time together, they each already know a lot about what turns the other on.

After that, they don't talk much beyond gasped or moaned encouragements and praise. It's not long before Cas has a hand wrapped around both of them, propped on one elbow over Dean so that he doesn't have to take his eyes off that beautiful face for a moment. Dean has his hands on Cas's ass, fingers digging in just enough to feel good without hurting, and he's thrusting up into Cas's hand with abandon. He tries to keep his eyes open, but gives it up as he gets closer to coming. His eyes are squeezed shut, his head thrown back, when he comes all over Cas's hand. It only takes a few more strokes for Cas to follow him.

After they're cleaned up, Dean pulls him close.

"Stay tonight?" Dean murmurs, kissing him.

"Thank god," Cas replies into Dean's mouth. "Now I can bring my overnight bag in from the car without feeling like a presumptuous ass."

They both laugh, then kiss and cuddle some more. Eventually, they're basically just lying there staring into each other's eyes, and Cas would be chagrined at how cliche they are but fuck if he cares about cliches when Dean's eyes are so green.

"I guess the fic writers really were right," Dean says. "About all of it."

Cas laughs. "I thought you'd already realized that a while ago. Your crush on Harrison Ford and all."

Dean shakes his head, a dreamy little smile on his lips.

"Not that." His thumb runs over Cas's lips and his eyes track it. "The falling in love part. Feeling like there's too much of it in me, like I'm gonna burst with it. Looking at you and seeing the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. It's crazy, a week ago I thought you were one of the hottest guys I'd ever seen, and you still are, and I totally had a bit of a crush on you, but now it's so… _different_. Physically, I know you look the same, but looking at you takes my breath away in a way it totally didn't last Monday. It's like you're a different person."

"I sort of am," Cas points out. "It is strange, though. You were some guy I saw briefly, once a week, who I only knew superficially. Enough to sustain a crush, yes, but that's it. Now, suddenly you've metamorphosed into the man who knows my past but doesn't judge me for it, who's trusted me with all his secrets, who I'm so very deeply in love with. It can't help but change my perceptions of you."

"Yeah. I just… I don't know, I knew I felt different things for you, like online you, than I did for library you, but I guess part of me was worried that if you put physical attraction back into the equation, it'd feel more like any other crush? But it doesn't. I love you, Cas. I look at you and it's like I'm seeing your hot outside and the things inside I fell in love with all at once. And I always thought it was so cheesy when people in fiction would say shit like this, but I look at you and it really is like I'm looking at my future." He shakes his head, looking a little amazed. "You're gonna be a part of it, and that's just how the world works, that's just a fact. Like, how can I just know that? I can't just _know_ that."

Cas kisses him gently. "Of course you can. I know it, too. That said, we probably shouldn't go making any life-altering decisions just yet. What do you think is an appropriate amount of time to wait? A day? A week?"

Dean laughs. "Christ, Cas, we can't go rushing into this shit. I think we gotta give it two weeks, at least."

"Two weeks," Cas concedes. "And then you can run away with me. We can leave our lives here behind and go somewhere exotic, like Lawrence, or Kansas City. Or somewhere truly remote—Chicago!"

Dean is laughing by now, and Cas just wants to keep saying whatever ridiculous things will make him keep laughing. "That sounds awesome. Two weeks it is, then we run off and elope and start our own diner on the outskirts of a big, liberal city."

"A diner?" Cas raises and eyebrow. "That's your big escape plan, eh?"

"Hell yeah, a diner." Dean grins, getting into it. "We'll have the best pie and burgers in the county. Best in the state. And we'll cater all the gay weddings. Not the hetero ones, those are against my religion."

"What if it's a hetero wedding that'd done entirely in cosplay?" Cas asks, eyes narrowed.

"Eh…" Dean considers it. "I'll allow it."

"A diner on the outskirts of a city that caters gay weddings," Cas sighs, snuggling deeper into Dean's chest. "Just what I've always dreamed of."

 


	8. Chapter 8

Even knowing what he'll find on the other side of the door Tuesday evening, when Dean opens it the sight still blows him away. It's nothing that anyone else would identify as incredible or even out of the ordinary, but its very mundanity, the fact that this could ever be "normal" for him, is what makes it so breathtaking.

He enters his home to find Cas tucked into one corner of his couch, knees bent up with bare feet balanced on the edge of the coffee table, his laptop somehow wedged into the space between his bent legs and his torso. Dean gets just a glimpse of the look of concentration on his face, one hand shoved into his messy hair while the other controls the trackpad, before Cas's eyes flick to the door. His face immediately breaks out into an adorable grin that has Dean's heart fluttering.

"Hi honey, I'm home," Dean jokes as he pulls his shoes off. Cas is wrangling his computer out of his lap and onto the coffee table. By the time he's successful, Dean is right next to him, ready to replace it.

He nudges Cas into sitting up straight again and climbs right onto his lap, straddling him.

"Hello, Dean," Cas murmurs as Dean is situating himself. Cas is looking at him like he's the key to solving all the world's problems, and for a second Dean can't respond at all, caught in such a loving gaze.

He recovers enough to lean down and press a gentle kiss to his boyfriend's lips, marveling at the very idea that he has a _boyfriend_ , let alone that it's _this guy_.

"A guy could get used to this," he murmurs against Cas's mouth. "Comin' home to find a sexy writer on my couch every day. And I get him all to myself."

Cas runs his hands up into Dean's hair and pulls him into a deeper kiss. Dean loses himself in the warm slide of tongues for a minute or two.

"No life-altering decisions for at least two weeks," Cas reminds him a bit breathlessly. Dean nods, his nose bumping Cas's.

"Not to give it away or anything," he says softly, pressing another light kiss to Cas's mouth before he goes on, "but I'm probably gonna ask you to move in with me the second two weeks are up."

Cas smiles into another kiss. "Not to give it away or anything," he echoes, "but I'm probably going to say yes."

They make out for a few more minutes. It's not leading anywhere else, not yet—just indulging in the simple pleasure of physical affection they've been denied for so long.

Eventually the frequency and length of their kisses starts to dwindle, and soon they're just gazing into each other's eyes again.

"If I do move in," Cas says quietly, "it's going to be hard to hide that from your neighbors. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

From some people, that might sound judgmental, or it might be a test. But all that's in Cas's voice or eyes is genuine concern.

Dean sighs.

"I don't wanna hide you, Cas," he says. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I want the whole world to know it. Which, obviously, doesn't mean that I can actually tell the whole world. But I would love to get to a point where I'm really only closeted at work. I don't give a shit what most of my neighbors think of me, and there's a reason I purposely live a ways away from work. I'm not gonna put up a sign outside saying 'gay men fucking here,' but I'm okay with living our lives the way we want to and letting them think what they're going to about it. It's like… not even coming out, really. I don't have to make some big announcement or anything. I'm way more worried about telling the people I actually know. But I wanna do that, too."

Cas nods, running his fingers through Dean's hair in a way that makes Dean want to lean into it. And he can, so he does.

"I want to be clear," he finally says, "that I have no intention of pressuring you to come out to anyone, anywhere, before you're ready. That said, what if you meet my friends first? You know they won't judge you for this. It might be easier to talk to your family if you've already been in situations where we've been accepted."

"That is _such_ a good idea," Dean says, and drops his head so that their foreheads are touching. "I barely even know what it's like to, like… _be gay_ out in the open. Some bars when I've been out of town, and a couple times I've visited Charlie."

"Well, it's not always fun," Cas says, "especially here. But there are places we can go where we're unlikely to be harassed, and when you're with a group you know and trust it's better."

While he says this, Cas starts nonchalantly tugging Dean's tie loose.

"Your friends aren't gonna, like, think I'm an asshole for being in the closet?" He's worried enough about the judgmental looks they might get as a couple in public, but he can also imagine Cas's friends glaring at him, deeming him unworthy.

Having removed the tie, Cas starts to unbutton Dean's cuffs as he answers.

"Of course not. They understand that everyone has to do this on their own timetable, and some of my queer friends aren't out at work, either. As long as it's clear that you're not treating me like some dirty little secret, I can't imagine them judging you for that."

By this point, he's moved on from the cuffs to the front of Dean's shirt.

"Uh, Cas?" Dean says with a laugh, looking down at the fingers making quick work of his buttons. "You got some plans here you wanna clue me in on? Not that I'm complaining."

Cas hums thoughtfully. "This is a very important conversation, but the things I am about to do to your body are also important."

"Ah," Dean says. He leans in so that he can lower his voice. "So what, exactly, are you about to do to my body?"

"I suppose you'll find out, won't you?"

There's a dark intent in Cas's expression as he focuses on his hands that sends arousal flowing through Dean's veins. When his hands finally smooth over Dean's skin, pushing the shirt off his shoulders, the touch sends sparks through him. He presses himself in, feeling as much of Cas's body against his own as he can, then murmurs into Cas's ear.

"You wanna fuck me, Cas? Claim this virgin ass for yourself?"

Cas growls and digs his fingers into Dean's sides.

"Virginity is an outdated social construct." His words seem strangely out of joint with the way he's scratching his nails down Dean's back. "One that has even less meaning for same-sex—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean cuts in. "Doesn't change the fact that yours'll be the only dick that's ever been in there."

"Fuck," Cas mutters, then quickly pulls off his own shirt.

A hand on the side of his face guides Dean to look Cas in the eye. Cas's head is cocked to one side a little curiously.

"Are you familiar with the red, yellow, green system?" Cas's voice is firm in a way that Dean hasn't heard before, a way that makes Dean's dick start taking a noticeable interest.

But Dean smirks at him. "Dude. I have read your fic, you know."

Cas smiles indulgently. "Good. Then what is your color right now?"

Dean's smirk fades as the full implications hit him all at once. His dick is straining against his khakis now, and he's breathing more heavily than he was ten seconds ago.

"Green," he manages to get out.

Cas raises an eyebrow. "Green, what?"

Dean has a sudden urge to drop his eyes, but Cas's hand is still on his face, making it clear that he expects Dean to look at him.

"Green, Sir."

"Good," Cas all but purrs, "then put your hands behind your back, wrists crossed."

Dean obeys almost automatically. As Cas reaches around and starts to tie his wrists with his recently-removed tie, it occurs to him that maybe he shouldn't be jumping into BDSM with someone he's only exchanged hand jobs with once and has been dating for exactly a day. But he _knows_ Cas and, more importantly, trusts him—if he is half as conscientious about consent in real life as he is writing about it, Dean has absolutely no doubt that a yellow or red will not be ignored or seen as weakness. He rests his forehead on Cas's shoulder. The truth is, he's never felt so safe having sex with another man.

"Let me know immediately," Cas says as he finishes the binding and tests it, "if this starts to get uncomfortable, if it hurts, if anything starts to tingle or go numb. This is very important, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Dean responds. "I'll let you know if there's a problem."

"Good." Cas "Now stand up and turn around so that I can take a look and make sure that tying this blind wasn't a terrible mistake."

Dean does as he's told, although getting off of Cas and the couch without using his hands is a bit more difficult than he'd expected. As he waits for Cas to finish inspecting his handiwork, he feels anticipation building. He's tried a bit of this kind of thing with women, including Lisa. It's one of the reasons he was able to keep himself convinced that he was attracted to them; being tied up or bossed around made it so much easier for him to get turned on despite, rather than because of, who was doing it.

He's never done anything like it with a man. Of course he hasn't; he's not stupid enough to let a random bar hookup tie him down no matter how much he's wanted it. It's amazing how different it feels to _want_ Cas, on top of wanting to please him. Before, he simply liked the sensation of being tied up, of straining against it a little and feeling the pull of the ropes. Now, he wants so badly to touch Cas, and being denied that adds a new feeling of desperation, of vulnerability, to the proceedings. He feels so much more at Cas's mercy simply because what Cas _could_ give him, if he chooses to, is so much more valuable to him than any woman's touch ever was.

After Cas tugs at the tie a bit to make sure he's tied it properly, he stands up behind Dean, takes hold of him by the place where the tie attaches his two wrists, and guides him wordlessly toward the bedroom.

Cas closes the door behind them, then walks around Dean, eyeing him carefully.

"I was going to strip you down the rest of the way, but it looks like those pants are getting awfully uncomfortable, so I might hold off on that just a bit." He reaches down and starts to undo his own fly. "You should really earn that kind of relief. On your knees."

Dean resists the urge to just drop down, knowing his knees wouldn't thank him for the sudden impact, and instead lowers himself one knee at a time despite the fact that it doesn't help the situation in his pants any.

God, he hopes he gets to suck Cas off. He tries not to look too eager for it, so Cas won't decide that that, too, is a reward that must be earned.

Luckily, Cas seems to have decided that it is instead a task that can earn him his reward, and soon he's pressing the tip of his dick past Dean's lips. He goes slowly, and Dean savors it, sucking hard and massaging the head with his tongue.

Cas only pushes in a couple of inches, then pulls back out slowly. He keeps going like this, only letting Dean have a little at a time, one hand gripping Dean's hair and the other guiding his dick. Part of Dean wishes he could have the whole thing, but another part of him is kind of glad he won't wear his jaw out too quickly and doesn't have to think too much about his breathing.

"Fuck, you look good with my dick in your mouth," Cas says, then lets out a short moan. "I can't wait to see what you look like with the entire thing down your throat. Not right now, though. Right now— _oh_ yeah, that's good—right now I just want to see what you can do with this much. Prove to me you deserve the whole thing next time."

Dean redoubles his efforts, taking advantage of the moments when he has a couple of inches to work with to work it between the roof of his mouth and his tongue, swallowing to get the most suction. The noise Cas makes and the hand tightening in his hair tell him it's working.

They keep going like this for several minutes; Dean trying to vary his technique, Cas doling out occasional praise. Dean gets so into it that he can almost ignore the throbbing between his own legs—almost.

Then Cas pulls all the way out and tucks himself back into his boxers, and Dean realizes, with no small amount of pride, that he's breathing much harder than when they started.

"Excellent work." In the wrong tone of voice, Cas would sound like an office manager praising Dean on his presentation. But any office manager saying it like _that_ would get called into HR for sexual harassment. "Stand up, you've earned a bit of comfort."

He tugs on Dean's hair, which isn't really necessary since Dean is already starting to rise but feels great anyhow. To Dean's surprise, Cas drops to his own knees in front of him. He's less surprised when Cas does not immediately unzip his pants, but instead takes his time nosing at Dean's erection through his pants and reaching around to grab his ass.

Dean grits his teeth as he resists the urge to rub himself against Cas's face. Cas is giving him just enough friction to make him hornier but not nearly enough to feel any sort of satisfaction. Cas looks up at him through his lashes, clearly fully aware of Dean's struggle and enjoying it.

Finally, just when Dean is about to cross over from being turned on by the denial to being slightly annoyed by it, Cas reaches up and unbuttons his pants. Slowly. Unzips them. Slowly. Dean sighs as his erection finally has the space it's been demanding.

Cas hooks his fingers under the waistband of Dean's boxers and pulls both them and his pants down in one fluid movement. He doesn't indicate for Dean to step out of them, though, leaving them bunched around his ankles.

He's kind enough to take Dean's dick in his hand and give it a couple of strokes—still not as firmly as Dean would like, but so much better than he was getting before. Dean moans, then gasps as Cas licks across his slit.

"I believe I've mentioned my predilection for precome?" Dean remembers—how could he not, given that it was their first time. Their first time, viewing it as "improvised fic," before they even knew each other all that well, only friends in a superficial sort of way. It feels like another life. Even remembering the conversation, he still gasps in surprise when Cas wraps his lips around the head of his dick then slides his hand up slowly, squeezing gently, milking it out of Dean just as he'd promised. Dean struggles to hold still, not jerk into Cas's mouth. His head falls back as he lets out something halfway between a moan and a whine, fully focused on the sensation of Cas's tongue swirling around him.

After sucking and licking out the liquid with a hum of pleasure, Cas releases Dean's dick and sits back on his heels. He takes ahold of Dean's pants, still around his ankles.

"Go ahead and step out of these, then go kneel on the center of your bed, facing the headboard."

Dean does as he's told, wondering what's in store for him. Once he's in position, looking straight ahead, Cas saunters over and stands beside him. He wants to look up at Cas, but Cas said facing the headboard so he stays facing that way. The bed dips as Cas moves closer; Dean thinks he's put one knee on the bed.

He feels Cas's hand, warm on the back of his neck. It starts to press him forward. Cas's other hand reaches out and grabs a pillow, then positions it in front of Dean.

"Head on the pillow, please," Cas says. Despite saying please, his tone is firm. "You can turn it to one side if you prefer. You'll be down there a while, best make yourself comfortable."

"Yes, sir," Dean says, almost to himself, as his forehead hits the pillow. He feels so exposed, his ass up in the air. Is Cas going to fuck him like this, or does he have other plans?

Cas leaves his side, then the bed dips again as he settles behind him. Dean can't tell if he's sitting or kneeling or what, but he still has his pants and underwear on. Dean's not sure if that means anything—he could always just undo the fly and fuck him like that.

Cas hums. "Just a moment. I'll be right back, don't move."

And then he's gone, and Dean is left with his hands tied behind him and his ass sticking up. He hears the water turn on in the bathroom, then off again, and then Cas is climbing back onto the bed behind him.

"Not that you're not hygienic, but I prefer things to be extra-clean for this."

Dean feels a warm washcloth pressed against his hole, pushed just slightly inside it. It actually feels pretty damn good, the texture just different enough from anything else he's had there. He lets out a small moan, which makes Cas chuckle.

"So responsive," Cas muses as he wipes Dean down. "This part isn't even supposed to be the good part; this is just cleaning up, but look how much you want it anyhow."

When the washcloth moves away, Dean feels Cas's hand touch his own.

"Color, love?"

Dean's heart does something funny at the endearment.

"Green, sir."

"Are you comfortable?"

Dean hesitates. He's not _un_ comfortable, exactly. Not in any way that matters. "I think I'm as comfortable as a person can be in this position, sir."

Cas gives his hand a squeeze, then lets it go. Then Dean feels his ass cheeks being spread and he realizes what Cas is about to do just a split second before Cas's tongue swipes slowly over his hole, making him let out a much longer and louder moan than the washcloth did.

"Good," Cas murmurs. His lips are close to Dean's skin, and Dean can almost feel his words. "Don't hold back. I want to hear how much you enjoy this."

He then proceeds to rim Dean within an inch of his life.

Lisa had done this to him a couple of times. But it had only been for a few minutes, tops; delicate licks that made it clear that she wasn't particularly into it, was only doing it for him.

There is nothing delicate about the way Cas devours him. Dean had no idea there were so many ways a tongue could press against or into him. Sometimes lightly, sometimes so hard it nearly hurts. Sometimes it's soft and loose, sometimes stiff and pointed. He soon stops being able to differentiate the details as one sensation washes into the next. His moans are loud enough that if he were more coherent, he'd wonder if his neighbors could hear. Sometimes words pour out of his mouth, sometimes formless sounds; he's not keeping track.

His dick hangs below him, a couple of inches away from being able to rub against his bed. He occasionally notices its neglected state, but only in the brief moments when Cas's tongue is retracting before its next swipe.

He wonders if Cas is stroking himself while he does this. He pictures it: Cas on his knees, one hand holding Dean open while his other hand jacks his dick, backing off every time he gets too close. At least, Dean hopes he backs off—as amazing as this feels, he wants so badly for Cas to fuck him.

Some amount of time later—damn if Dean has any idea, could be ten minutes, could be an hour—Dean feels light kisses across his skin instead of Cas's tongue.

"You said at some point that Lisa did this for you, right?"

"Not like that, she didn't," Dean pants. Then he thinks better of his response. "But yes, sir, she did."

"What did you think about while she was doing it? Did you just focus on the sensations, or was there some fantasy running through your head?"

Dean thinks it's a little odd for Cas to be asking about his ex, but there's no jealousy or judgment in Cas's tone. At any rate, he knows full well that Dean wants him a million times more than he ever wanted Lisa.

"Uh, mostly porn. Mostly the stuff where guys are rimming women, I thought it was just because I've seen more of that than the other way around. Didn't really occur to me that it was actually because I wanted to picture a guy doing it instead of her."

"And what were you thinking about just now?"

"You, sir," he answers honestly. "I wish I could watch you doing this to me. I was wondering if you were touching yourself while you were licking me, imagining what that would look like."

"I wasn't," Cas admits, "but it's an excellent suggestion."

There's a rustle of fabric, and a relieved sigh that accompanies the unmistakeable sound of a hand rubbing a dick. Dean feels Cas nudging his legs apart a bit more, and he complies.

He realizes that Cas has positioned them so that when Dean looks through his legs, he can see Cas jacking off. He's going slow, like he did with Dean's mouth. He rubs the head of his dick against Dean's balls a few times as he does it, making Dean whimper and become suddenly very aware of how hard he himself is, with no way to relieve it.

Then Cas's tongue is back on him. He couldn't possibly lick Dean's ass and rub against his balls at the same time, so now he's rubbing against Dean's leg. He thrusts his tongue in time with his hand, and Dean is mesmerized.

"Enjoying the show?" Cas growls, mouth still against Dean's hole.

"Yes, sir." Dean's voice is breathy and weak. His brain, luckily, is no longer in a place where something like that could embarrass him. "Thank you. This is easily the hottest thing I have ever experienced in my life."

"Mmmm, I'm sure we can improve on that," Cas says with a dark chuckle. Dean can feel Cas's laugh reverberate through his own body. "For the moment, though, my tongue is getting tired. Do you still want me to fuck you, Dean?"

"Fuck yes," Dean moans. The rimming felt incredible but now that it's over his asshole feels empty and greedy for something more. "Please, sir, _please_ , please fuck me."

Cas moans, and Dean can see his hand moving faster. "God, Dean, your begging was hot enough over a computer. Hearing it, though, in that voice. I don't think I'll ever get enough of that."

Well, that is something Dean can deliver on.

"I'll do anything, sir, however you want me, whatever position, please, _please_ I need your dick in me."

Cas laughs again, and pats Dean's bottom gently.

"Greedy," he says, affection warming his voice. "Needy. _Starving_ for my dick. I like you like this. I'm tempted to wait, just to see how desperate you can get. But not today, not our first time. Someday, though. Today I'm nearly as desperate to get my dick into you as you are, love."

Dean sees Cas's hand leave his dick, then he realizes the tie around his hands is being loosened.

"How do your arms feel?" Cas asks as he releases Dean's hands from the binding entirely. Dean keeps his hands crossed where they are. "Go ahead and move them, I want you to be comfortable for this. And minimize the chances of us falling over, honestly."

Dean can't help snorting at the thought of himself tipping over while Cas fucks him, but he lowers his arms and puts his hands by his head, which he keeps down on the pillow.

"A little stiffer than I realized, honestly, sir, but no major problems," he reports.

"Perfect. And your color?"

"Green, sir."

He hears lube being squeezed out, and then two (he thinks) wet fingers are pressing inside him.

"God, you're so loose already. Apparently your ass is an absolute slut for my tongue."

Dean opens his mouth to reply in the affirmative, but then Cas hits his prostate and whatever he was going to say is subsumed by a high-pitched moan. He rocks back on Cas's fingers, only to feel a sharp smack to one cheek. He gasps, but honestly he kind of wants to make it happen again.

"You stay right where you are," Cas says sternly, withdrawing his fingers. "Right now, you are dependent on _me_ for your pleasure, and I will give it to you as I see fit. Understood? "

"Yes," Dean moans. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir, I won't move again."

"You are allowed to move your head and arms for purposes of comfort only," Cas clarifies, "not to stimulate yourself in any way."

"Yes, sir."

Finally Cas's fingers slide back in and continue working him open. Dean grips the pillow, struggling not to press back into the pressure. The small amounts of discomfort he feels at the stretching sensations is more than cancelled out every time Cas runs his fingertip over that spot again, something that Cas does with more and more frequency as he goes. There's something about being here in this vulnerable position, someone else's fingers inside of him preparing him to take even more, sparking his pleasure centers over and over again, that is far more sensual than anything he's done with strangers in bars.

Soon he feels the fingers withdraw again, and then hears the sound of a condom packet opening. Then the lube again, and the wet sound of Cas slicking himself up.

Dean feels the head of Cas's dick press against his hole and has to resist the urge to press back against it. He thought he'd be more nervous his first time bottoming, but he's used toys this size on himself, and he trusts Cas to be careful. So all Dean feels is aching desire.

"Color?"

"Green, sir."

"Let me know about any discomfort or pain, all right? I'll go slow, but tell me if I need to do anything differently."

Before Dean can answer, he feels the stretch as Cas pushes in. As promised, Cas goes slow—almost agonizingly so, but Dean knows he wouldn't really want him to go any faster. It burns a little, but no more than Dean anticipated. Neither of them is silent, but neither of them says anything coherent until Cas is fully inside.

He waits a moment, then leans forward and grabs Dean's hair—slowly, so Dean isn't taken by surprise—and pulls his head up and back just enough for it to become uncomfortable.

"How does it feel?"

"So good, sir." Dean's voice is strained by the angle of his head, but also by arousal. "I'm ready—I'm ready, please fuck me, sir."

"Shhh, so eager." Cas lets go of Dean's hair and his head drops back down like there's a weight in it. "First I'd like a bit more detail than that. Tell me how it feels to have my dick inside you."

Dean takes a couple of deep breaths. Talking—legitimate talking, with sentences and everything—is not really his first choice of activity right now.

"Full," he finally gets out. The door opened, a string of babbling falls out. "So fucking stretched out and full, and it's a little uncomfortable right now but it's okay because I know it's gonna be amazing once you start moving, and I'm so glad it's you, fuck, Cas, I've had so many fucking fantasies about you and I didn't even _know_ it was you but this is so much fucking better, god, I love you, please fuck me, Cas, please—"

He's cut off by a sharp thrust, out and in again, making him cry out in surprise.

"Not to interrupt you," Cas pants, not stopping, "because that was so fucking— _nng_ —perfect. But when you started begging again I couldn't help but give in."

Dean is not complaining. He is not complaining even more loudly when Cas adjusts his angle a few times until he's hitting Dean's prostate regularly.

He continues not to complain when Cas reaches down and takes him in hand. He's so hard and aching and has been for so long, he thinks he'll come the second Cas touches him, but it actually takes him a minute or so to make it over that crest that he's been teetering on for so long.

But when he does, Cas still hitting his prostate every couple of thrusts, Cas _inside him, Cas is fucking him_ , it's the most intense orgasm he's had in years, maybe ever. His body locks up—he feels the drag of Cas's dick even more keenly now that he's tightened around it—and the waves of pleasure radiating from his dick out make his brain white out, all coherent thought gone. For a moment he has no idea where he is or what he's doing, all he knows is how good it feels.

After he's done, his body seems to just let go. He can still hold himself up, but it takes a little concentration. Cas speeds up, though, so it's not long before he's moaning and digging his nails into Dean's hips as he gives a few last hard thrusts.

When he's sure Cas is done, when he feels hands smoothing over the fingernail marks, he finally gives in and collapses onto the bed. Cas laughs behind him, and it's not the dark chuckle from earlier. It's easy and affectionate, joyful even.

Dean smiles into his pillow, not even caring that he's lying on his wet spot.

Cas carefully cleans them up, murmuring praise the entire time. He runs his fingers through Dean's hair and kisses his temple, his shoulders, telling him how beautiful and amazing he is.

Dean is sort of floating in a post-orgasmic half-sleep haze, but at some point Cas shakes him and makes him sit up and drink a glass of water. Cas kisses him gently and says something about heating up the leftover lasagna.

Dean mumbles some kind of response as he flops back down on the bed. A blanket lands on him and he dozes for a while, waking up when the smell of lasagna reminds his stomach that he hasn't had dinner yet.

He throws on sweatpants and goes out into the kitchen, stopping at the sight of Cas pulling the pan out of his oven.

He's well aware that it's ridiculous for one day into their relationship, and that he's still high on post-sex endorphins and new relationship energy, but that doesn't change his certainty, bone-deep, that he wants to see this every day for the rest of his life.


	9. Chapter 9

 

Cas moves in exactly one month later.

Given how long he's been living with his mother, most of that time spent trying to save up to move away, he doesn't particularly have a lot of possessions. So while they declare him to be "officially" moved in a month later, really most of his stuff has already migrated to Dean's house.

They announce on their Tumblrs that they've moved in together, causing a minor explosion in the fandom. Neither one has ever considered himself a BNF, but they each have a couple of extremely popular fics and a couple thousand followers on Tumblr, and apparently enough of the fandom knows of both of them that people are super-excited to hear they're dating.

_Image: Screenshot of a[Tumblr conversation](http://ramble-on-67.tumblr.com/post/150325185193/angel-of-thursday85-devil-boys-5eva)_  
_ramble-on-67: So fucking happy to announce that @angel-of-thursday85 has officially moved in with me. And yeah, before you ask, we've already started co-writing a fic._  
_devil-boys-5eva: Moved in with you? Like, roommates? Or..._  
_angel-of-thursday85: Nah, like fucking._  
_ramble-on-67: I was gonna say like boyfriends, but he's not wrong._  
_Tags: #real life shit_

 

"Uh, Cas, have you seen this?" Dean turns his laptop toward his boyfriend, who is snuggled next to him on their ( _their!_ ) couch reading an actual novel.

Cas squints at the screen. "Really?  _Really?_ How are we important enough to merit a post like that? Just for having a few popular fics?"

Dean shrugs. "I dunno, man, some people have even less of a life than we do."

_Image: Screenshot of[a tumblr post by user neallen-fandom-gossip](http://neallen-fandom-gossip.tumblr.com/post/150325497003/i-assume-the-entire-fandom-has-heard-by-now-but)_  
_I assume the entire fandom has heard by now, but apparently BNF Neallen fic writers RambleOn and AngelofThursday are dating, and have moved in together._  
_Assuming it's true (and neither of them has a history of drama whoring, unlike some Neallen BNFs I could name, so I'm guessing it is), congrats guys. These two working together can only give the fandom good things. And by working together, I mean having lots of kinky gay sex (because if you've read AngelofThursday's stuff, you know he's into the kink) and then writing about it._  
_Don't break up. Or if you do, let the angst fuel your fic._  
_Tags: #angel-of-thursday85 #ramble-on-67 #i ship it #not wanky for once #a romance made in fandom_

 

But with Cas living there, Dean can't really put off the inevitable any longer. He's already told Sam about Cas, of course, but talking about Cas isn't the hard part and Sam already knew he's gay. He's even brought Cas over to Benny and Andrea's house for dinner, and again, that wasn't so bad. Now he gets to start the process he's been putting off since he figured his shit out over five years ago—actually telling the rest of his family, both blood and adopted.

He starts with the easiest, his mom's sister Jody. Jody lives in Sioux Falls and Dean only sees her once every few years, but they talk on the phone somewhat regularly. Not only does she not live in Wichita, but she's liberal as all hell and Dean knows she won't care. He probably should have told her years ago, but there just hadn't really been a reason to bring it up before.

As predicted, she's nothing but excited to hear he's dating someone and so happy. What he didn't predict is her own revelation.

"I shouldn't be surprised your daddy never told you. He barely spoke to me while I was with Donna."

"Wait, you and Donna were _dating_?" Dean remembers Aunt Jody's cheerful friend from his teenage years. Dean's Uncle Sean and cousin Owen died in an accident when Dean was fourteen, and a couple years later suddenly all Jody's photos included her "best friend" (according to John) Donna. "No wonder dad wouldn't let us visit for Christmas that year. What an ass."

"You can say that again. We were together for about a year, and then she moved back to Minnesota when her mother took ill. I dunno, I wonder sometimes if we shouldn't have tried to tough out the long distance thing. Or maybe I should've up and moved with her."

"You ever look her up? I bet she has a Facebook."

"She does. And yes, I've looked now and then. She married a guy named Doug, but that didn't last long. They've been divorced for like five years now."

"Well hey, maybe it's not too late, y'know?" She starts to protest, but he cuts her off. "I'm just sayin', Aunt Jody—maybe me coming out to you today is a sign."

She insists on talking to Cas, and once she declares him to be "possibly maybe almost good enough" for her nephew (an assessment Cas agrees with enthusiastically), invites the two of them up to visit anytime.

Next on the list is Uncle Bobby and Aunt Karen. They're not blood, but there were some years when they did more parenting for him and Sam than John bothered to.

Dean's more nervous about this one, both because they live in town and because he's less confident about their reaction. Sam has no doubts that they'll accept him, and deep down Dean knows he's right—but it's still kind of terrifying.

It goes fine, of course. He goes over to their house for dinner like he always does twice a month, and by the end of the evening he's promising to bring Cas with him next time.

Ellen, of course, is a different matter. There's the fact that she's his boss, of course, but there's also the fact that she already knows Cas and is his… kinda-volunteer-boss. They've already spent a few weeks with Dean dropping Cas off at his mom's house on his way to work so that Cas can walk to the library as usual an hour later and not arouse any suspicion. They're pretty sure they've managed not to flirt while they're there, but it involves a lot of purposeful not-looking at each other that could probably be pretty damning in its own right if a person were watching them closely enough.

It takes a few days after Bobby and Karen for Dean to screw up the courage to even approach Ellen. Her office door is open, but he knocks on the frame to get her attention.

"Come on in," she says, barely glancing up from her computer. "What can I do for you?"

He takes a seat in the chair in front of her desk and immediately starts fidgeting.

"So… I've got something I need to talk to you about, but like… I'm not sure if it's a work thing I should talk to you about here or something I should come over and talk to you about at home."

"Hmm." She finally turns away from her screen, folding her hands on her desk. "Well, now, is this something you'd be talking to me about if I weren't your boss?"

"Definitely, yeah."

"And if I were just your boss and hadn't known you since you were in short pants, would you talk to me about it then?"

"No, actually. Not yet, at least." Eventually, if all goes well, he'll need Ellen as a reference when he applies for jobs in another city. He could still keep the reason he's moving a secret if he needed to, but he'd probably come clean if his boss were someone like Ellen.

"Well there's your answer, then. Seems pretty straightforward to me."

Dean sighs. "Yeah, I mean. It's a personal issue, but it does involve the library. Sort of."

"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight, then?" Ellen gives him a warm smile. "Jo's coming home for the weekend, is it something you can talk about in front of her?"

Relief washes over Dean. Jo being there should make things easier. He knows Ellen will be fine with everything, but Jo's sense of humor will keep the tone more relaxed.

"Yeah, that's great, actually." He gets up to leave, but stops at the door. "Oh, and, uh. Set an extra place? I'll bring a surprise special guest."

Ellen's eyebrows go up at that. "Really? Well, now. I will do that. Come by around seven, Jo should be home by then."

"Sounds good."

He and Cas are on Ellen's doorstep at seven on the dot. Jo answers the door, and she and Dean mutually tackle each other with hugs. She manages to pry herself free before he starts in on a noogie when she notices Cas.

"Oooh, and you brought a friend for me. How thoughtful!"

Cas laughs, but Dean gives her a dark look. "Hands off, Joanna Beth. He's taken."

Jo raises an eyebrow, but doesn't ask who he's taken by. Just then, Ellen comes in from the kitchen.

"You're just in time, Dean—" She stops short when she sees Cas with him. "Cas! I wasn't expecting to see you outside the library. Glad to have you, though! I guess you two were serious about hanging out together."

"It's good to see you, Ellen. And nice to meet you, Jo. I'm Castiel, I volunteer at the library where your mother and Dean."

Introductions made, he bites his lip and looks at Dean expectantly.

Dean knows Cas isn't trying to pressure him. They've discussed this; whenever Dean feels like it's the right point in the conversation to bring it up, he'll bring it up. But he suddenly feels an oppressive weight pressing down on him, and he knows it's because he's hiding something. Not just like he normally is; the lies he habitually tells about his interest in women barely register anymore. This time, he knows he won't be able to relax until Ellen and Jo know the truth.

Especially since Jo is still leering at his boyfriend, who is nearly a decade too old for her.

"Well, I made chicken and dumplings, which is Jo's favorite, and pie for dessert, which is Dean's favorite, so you'll have to forgive me for not knowing your favorite foods, Castiel," Ellen says. She seems to have readily accepted that Dean and Cas are friends, and that for some reason Dean brought him along when he had something important to talk about. Somehow, that makes Dean feel a little calmer, the reminder that Ellen has always been a pretty go-with-the-flow kind of woman.

Castiel laughs. "That sounds delicious. Though if you're ever wondering, my favorite food is hamburgers."

"Are we gonna be seeing a lot of you around, then?" Ellen winks, but the look she's giving Cas as she crosses her arms is openly appraising. Dean takes that as his cue.

"Yes!" Dean bursts out, louder than he intended. Ellen and Jo look at him funny, but Cas touches his arm and gives him a warm smile. The fact that Cas can calm him down with one touch, when they've only been able to touch each other at all for a few weeks, makes Dean's heart swell with love.

"Yes," he repeats, more smoothly this time. He tries to keep his voice slow and even, so that his breathing stays that way, too. "You'll be seeing him around a lot. Because Cas is my boyfriend." He ignores the exaggerated gasp from Jo, because she's just being an idiot. "We're dating, and he recently moved in with me."

Cas's hand moves from his arm to his back, rubbing lightly. When he looks over, they share a smile and he knows this is worth all the nerve-wracking conversations.

Ellen's eyebrows are raised, but the look she's giving Dean is less surprised or shocked and more calculating.

"I assume I don't have to tell you how risky that is, particularly for a children's librarian in an area like this."

"Mom!" Jo smacks her mother on the arm. "Can't you be happy for them for like two seconds?"

"Joanna Beth." Ellen turns toward her daughter with the kind of look on her face that's always made Dean shrink back a little—not that it affects Jo in the least. "I can be happy for them the rest of the evening. But I already know from our conversation earlier today that Dean is well-aware that this could impact his job, and as both his friend and his boss it is my responsibility to help him mitigate that."

"She's right, Jo," Dean says. "I'm telling you guys this because you're family, but Ellen and I have got a lot to talk about as far as work goes. And Ellen, yeah. Trust me, I know. That's why I've been completely in the closet since I figured out I was gay back when Lisa and me broke up."

"Gay?" Jo breaks in again. "You know, you don't have to do the whole stupid Orange is the New Black 'I was gay then I was straight now I'm gay again' bullshit. Bisexuality is a thing."

"I know it's a thing, Jo." Dean rolls his eyes. "But it's not _my_ thing. You grow up with my dad and see how hard you repress the fact that only guys get your motor running."

"Lord," Ellen mutters. "Just when I thought we'd figured out all the ways John managed to screw you kids over."

"Anyhow, I have no plans to be out at work. Cas and I will keep being nothing but professional when he's there." Ellen and Cas both snort. "Okay, we'll keep acting like twelve-year-olds quoting bad movie lines at each other. Point being, we're not gonna be making out in front of Hannah or the storytime moms."

"Well, I obviously won't tell anyone," Ellen says. "If Cas were an employee, there would be some hoops you'd have to jump through that might involve a few assholes higher up, but there are no policies I know of about dating volunteers. But Dean, honey, you need to be careful. There _are_ assholes up there who would fire you over this, and I can't protect you from them. It sounds like you know that, obviously, but moving in together? Are you sure that's worth the risk?"

Dean grits his teeth, reminding himself that Ellen isn't the person to be angry with here. She's just trying to help, and it's not like she's not bringing up valid points. He takes Cas's hand, and Cas gives his a squeeze.

"What am I supposed to do, put my life on hold forever? I'm not gonna stop being gay, should I just never move in with anyone? What if we decide we want to get married, have kids? I don't want anyone at work to know any more than they absolutely have to, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna live my life." He's starting to get loud by the time he's done, but he can't really help it. He's gotten a small taste of what it's like to be out of the closet and in love in these past few weeks, and he can't just reverse all of that progress because there are some homophobic douchebags in high places at the Wichita Public Library.

Cas has been quiet so far, which is understandable since these are Dean's people, not his. Now that Dean is getting upset, though, he seems to take that as his cue to pull some of the focus, for which Dean is immensely thankful.

"Believe me, Ellen, Dean and I have discussed the potential impact our relationship could have on his career at great length," he says, sounding far calmer than Dean did. "The fact is, you're right, it may not be possible for him to pursue a career as a children's librarian while living as an out gay man in Wichita. If he can't do that here, we may need to move somewhere where it is possible, and we're prepared for that possibility."

In truth, they've already gone over their finances and determined that they should be ready to move in about four months. Dean's starting to keep an eye on job listings in the Kansas City area, and if something opens before then they'll figure it out. But it's smart of Cas to bring up the possibility without flat-out announcing that they're moving on top of the rest of the evening's revelations.

"Oh my god, you guys gotta come up to Lawrence!" Jo breaks in. "I mean, it's still Kansas and all, it's not like if you moved to San Francisco or something, but I bet you could at least keep a job there."

"Well, I certainly hope it doesn't come to that," Ellen says, shaking her head, "but I won't lie. You probably would be less likely to have parents picket your branch in Lawrence or Kansas City."

"So does that mean if I need to go job-hunting, you'll give me a good recommendation?" Dean smiles.

"Of course I will, Jesus, like that was a question." Ellen says, shaking her head. She motions toward the dining room table. "Now look, let's talk about more pleasant things than homophobic assholes running you out of town." Once they're all seated, she begins her interrogation of Cas.

 

\---

 

**Six months later…**

_Image: Screenshot of[a Tumblr conversation](http://angel-of-thursday85.tumblr.com/post/147169753545/devil-girl-in-neals-lap-ramble-on-67)_  
_angel-of-thursday85: Hypothetically, if @ramble-on-67 and I were going to be at KC Comic Con this weekend, would there be any Neallen fans for us to meet up with?_  
 _ devil-girl-in-neals-lap:  OMG YES! There are like five of us who get together to watch the show. You guys are gonna be in KC? Do you live around here?_  
 _ ramble-on-67: Yeah, actually, we live in the area. Any chance we could get in on the viewing parties? :D_  
 _ devil-girl-in-neals-lap: Ok, uh, just for the record. We did invite RambleOn and AoT to watch the show with us last week and… holy fuck, why did nobody tell me how hot these two dudes are? Seriously, I’ma go write some RO/AoT fic, and I’m not ashamed of it… Just, y’know, to warn you two.  
angel-of-thursday85: Ooh, I can’t wait to find out who tops! I’ve been wondering._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope all the embedded pictures are okay - please don't hesitate to leave a comment if something wasn't working properly for you.
> 
> Where did Neal and Allen come from? Well, Sam and Dean are expys of the characters Sal and Dean in Jack Kerouac's _On the Road_. Sal and Dean are themselves expys of Jack Kerouac himself and his friend Neal Cassady. IRL, Neal Cassady was bisexual and involved with Allen Ginsburg, who appears in _On the Road_ as Carlo Marx. (Castiel isn't exactly an expy of Carlo, but y'know, they both start with Ca, close enough, right? ;)
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://porcupine-girl.tumblr.com).


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